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PRESENTED BY 



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YMNS 



The Higher Life 




(Bt Unto tt tenter 



TROY, N.Y. 

NIMS AND KNIGHT 

1887 






COPTRIGHl 

By Niys and Kmghi 



Gift 

Rev. Edwin H. Bookrnyer 
April 10. 1928 






60 

r- 

^7 



INTRODUCTION. 



PERHAPS in nothing is the substantial unity 
of the Christian Church, with all her varying 
modes of worship and symbols of belief, more sig- 
nificantly seen than in her " hymns and spiritual 
songs." The theology of the intellect may be dis- 
cordant; but the theology of the heart is harmonious. 
Hymns are the expressions of religious emotions, 
inspired by one eternal Spirit, in the contemplation 
of one divine Saviour, or in adoration of one heav- 
enly Father. In the Psalms, saints of all ages, of 
all conditions in life, in all the varied experiences 
of joy and sorrow, find a common and ample utter- 
ance. Prayer and praise, desire and gratification, 
want and fulness, as the personal consciousness of 
individual men, never fail to find an adequate lan- 
guage for their expression in the inspired strains 
of the sweet singers of Israel. 

3 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

In like manner, in the "Hymns of the Ages," — 
the rich inheritance which the consecrated psalmists 
in our Christian Israel have bestowed upon the 
Church, — although the singers themselves differed 
widely in the circumstances under which they sung, 
in their views of church order and government, and 
even in their utterances of the doctrines of their 
common gospel, still their collected psalmody forms 
but one mighty organ of a celestial tone. Every 
separate singer opens a different " stop " in the 
sublime instrument ; but all unite in a divine har- 
mony, forming together a glorious diapason, re- 
sounding down the ages. 

Mr. Toplady and Mr. Wesley were widely sepa- 
rated from each other in their " systems " of grace ; 
but the former expressed the experimental effect of 
his view as he sang, — 

" Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
Let me hide myself in thee ; " 

and Mr. Wesley poured forth from his lyre, in the 
fulness of his heart, his confession of faith, in the 
memorable words, — 

" Jesus, lover of my soul, 
Let me to thy bosom fly;" 



INTRODUCTION. 5 

and these two precious hymns, as any one can see 
and feel in their reading, are one. 

Our hymn-books have been greatly enriched in 
later years, and have become the treasure-houses 
of the abundant offerings which gifted hearts have 
placed upon Christ's altar. Many sweet hymns have 
been shortened to meet the requisitions of the "ser- 
vice of song ; " and many other hymns, old and new, 
while full of melody and rich in doctrine, are not- 
adapted to the public devotions of the sanctuary. 
But Christian readers are not willing to permit any 
of these heavenly chords to cease their vibration. 
They have another office to perform. They meet a 
want of pious hearts, becoming the choice compan- 
ions of hours of meditation and prayer. Volumes 
containing these unabridged hymns are multiplying. 
They are, however, generally limited in their subjects. 
Very naturally, hymns of patience, consolation, and 
of heaven, form the staple of these compilations. 

The present volume is devoted to the expression 
of religious desires and experiences in seeking for 
the highest form of the divine life upon earth, and 
of the consequent activities and charities to which 
a holy heart, pervaded with the spirit of Christ, will 
prompt the devout believer. 



6 INTRODUCTION. 

It has been difficult to make a selection from the 
abundant materials near at hand. The writer has 
sought to secure as wide a confession as possible 
of the glorious faith of true believers in their one 
divine Lord. 

He has selected hymns both new and old, most 
of them worthy of their place for their lyrical excel- 
lence, and all of them for the truths which they 
embody. He has desired, while seeking to pre- 
serve the unity of the work, to present as large a 
variety as possible in the measure and style of these 
" spiritual songs/' 

He trusts the pleasure and profit which has at- 
tended their selection will be enjoyed by the readers 
of these pages ; and that they will find in them an 
aid to meet the inspired exhortation, to teach and 
admonish " one another in psalms and hymns and 
spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts 
to the Lord." 

B. K. P 
Riverside Parsonage, Randall's Island. 



Thus, while I drop a tear or two 
On the wild herd, a nobler few 
Dare to stray upward, and pursue 

The unbeaten way to God. 
They soar beyond my laboring sight, 
And leave their loads of mortal care, 

But not their love, below : 
On heaven, their home, they fix their eyes, 

The temple of their God ; 
With morning incense up they rise 
Sublime, and through the lower skies 

Spread the perfumes abroad. 

Watts. 



HYMNS 



THE HIGHER LIFE, 



" Come up Hither." 

DOWNWARD through the still air falling, 
From the eternal heights above me, 
Comes a voice so tender, calling, 

" Wilt thou not, who fearest, love me ? 
Come up hither ! 
I who died for thee 
All thy strength will be : 
Come up hither ! " 

Seems the voice so far above me, 

Yet so full of mercy ! Teach me, 
Thou divine One, if thou love me, 
How in blindness I may reach thee. 
All this dreary 
Path which leadeth on 
Must I tread alone, — 
I, so weary ? 



IO HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

" Dreary, when the cross doth guide thee, 

And thou know'st its wondrous meaning ? 
Weary, when I walk beside thee, 
Thou upon my bosom leaning ? 
Alas ! with thee 
Have I dwelt so long, 
Still thou hast not known, 
Hast not known me ! 

" Wouldst thou see me, thou who fearful 

Falterest in the march ? Uplifting 
To the hills thine eyes, not tearful, 
Gird thine armor on. The rifting 
Clouds shall show thee 
Where thy path doth lead : 
Ah ! thy weeping hid 
Its fair glory ! 

" For the faithful and victorious, 

Out of blindness, wide the jDortal 
Openeth into light how glorious ! 
Out of death to life immortal ! 
Come up hither ! 
Fair in this sweet land 
The many mansions stand : 
Come up hither ! " 

Mrs. A. B C. Kbbne 



the believer's consecration. ii 

The Believer's Consecration. 

MY whole though broken heart, O Lord ! 
From henceforth shall be thine ; 
And here I do my vow record, — 

This hand, these words, are mine; 
All that I have, without reserve, 

I offer here to thee : 
Thy will and honor all shall serve 
That thou bestow'dst on me. 

All that exceptions save I lose ; 

All that I lose I save : 
The treasures of thy love I choose, 

And thou art all I crave. 
My God, thou hast my heart and hand ; 

I all to thee resign : 
I'll ever to this covenant stand, 

Though flesh hereat repine. 

I know that thou wast willing first, 

And then drew my consent : 
Having thus loved me at the worst, 

Thou wilt not now repent. 
Now I have quit all self-pretence, 

Take charge of what's thine own : 
My life, my health, and my defence, 

Now lie on thee alone. 



12 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Lord, it belongs not to my care 

Whether I die or live : 
To love and serve thee is my share, 

And this thy grace must give. 
If life be long, I will be glad, 

That I may long obey ; 
If short, yet why should I be sad, 

That shall have the same pay ? 

Christ leads me through no darker rooms 

Than he went through before : 
He that into God's kingdom comes 

Must enter by this door. 
Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet 

Thy blessed face to see ; 
For if thy work on earth be sweet 

What will thy glory be ? 

Then I shall end my sad complaints 

And weary sinful days, 
And join with the triumphant saints 

That sing Jehovah's praise. 
My knowledge of that life is small ; 

The eye of faith is dim : 
But 'tis enough that Christ knows a!!, 

And I shall be with him. 

Richard Baxter. 



THE SONG OF THE ANGELS A BO If E. 13 



The Song of the Angels above. 

EARTH has detained me prisoner long, 
And I'm grown weary now : 
My heart, my hand, my ear, my tongue, 
There's nothing here for you. 

Tired in my thoughts, I stretch me down, 
And upward glance mine eyes, — 

Upward, my Father, to thy throne, 
And to my native skies. 

There the dear Man, my Saviour, sits ; 

The God, how bright he shines ! 
And scatters infinite delights 

On all the happy minds. 

Seraphs with elevated strain 

Circle the throne around, 
And move and charm the starry plains 

With an immortal sound. 

Jesus, the Lord, their harps employs ; 

Jesus, my love, they sing ; 
Jesus, the name of both our joys, 

Sounds sweet from every string. 



I^ S OF THE HIGHER Li: 

Hark ! how beyond the narrow bounds 
Of time and space they run, 

in most majestic soun 
The Godhead of the Son ! — 

How on the 7 

The darling of his soul, 
r.nite years before the c 
heavens began to roll. 

And now they sink the lofty tone, 

And gentler notes they play, 
And bring the eternal Godhead down 
day. 

Oh sicred beauties of the Man ! 

(The God resides wit". 
His flesh all pure without a stain, 

His soul without a sin. 

Then how he looked, and how he sm 

: wondrous things he said : 
Sweet cherut . .veil here a while, 

id tell what Jesus did. 

nis command the blind aw: 
And feel the gladsome ra 
He bids the dumb attempt to speak 
They try their tongues in pra : - 



THE SONG OF THE ANGELS ABOVE. 

He shed a thousand blessings round 
Where'er he turned his eye ; 

He spoke, and at the sovereign sound 
The hellish legions fly. 

Thus, while with unambitious strife 

The ethereal minstrels rove 
Through all the labors of his life 

And wonders of his love, 

In the full choir a broken string 
Groans with a strange surprise : 

The rest in silence mourn their King, 
That bleeds and loves and dies. 

Seraph and saint, with drooping wings, 
Cease their harmonious breath : 

No blooming trees nor bubbling springs 
While Jesus sleeps in death. 

Then all at once to living strains 

They summon every chord, 
Break up the tomb, and burst his chains, 

And show their rising Lord. 

Around the flaming army throngs 

To guard him to the skies, 
With loud hosannas on their tongues, 

And triumph in their eyes. 



15 



1 6 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

In awful state the conquering God 
Ascends his shining throne, 

While tuneful angels sound abroad 
The victories he has won. 

Now let me rise, and join their song. 

And be an angel too : 
My heart, my hand, my ear. my tongue, 

Here's joyful work for you. 

I would begin the music here ; 

And so my soul should rise : 
Oh for some heavenly notes to bear 

My spirit to the skies \ 

There ye that love my Saviour sit ; 

There I would fain have place. 
Amongst your thrones or at your feet, 

So I might see his face. 

1 am confined to earth no more. 

But mount in haste above, 
To bless the God that I adore, 

And sing the Man I love. 

Isaac Watts 



looking to the cross. 

Looking to the Cross. 

IN weariness and pain, 
By griefs and sins opprest, 
I turn me to my Rest again, 
My soul's eternal Rest, — 
The Lamb that died for me, 
And still my load doth bear : 
To Jesus' streaming wounds I flee, 
And find my quiet there. 

Jesus, was ever grief, 

Was ever love, like thine ? 
Thy sorrow, Lord, is my relief; 

Thy life hath ransomed mine. 

The Crucified appears ! 

I see the dying God ! 
Oh, might I pour my ceaseless tears, 

And mix them with thy blood ! 

My sorrows I forget 

In view of Calvary : 
I fall, and kiss thy bleeding feet, 

And pant to share with thee. 

Oh, were I offered up 

Upon thy sacrifice ! 
Who would not drink the sacred cup, 

And die when Jesus dies ? 



17 



1 8 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Thou seest my heart's desire : 
I would thy cross partake ; 

I long to be baptized with fire, 
And die for thy dear sake ; 
I long to rise with thee, 
And soar to things above, 

And spend a blest eternity 
In praise of dying love. 

Charles Wesley. 



Toiling all the Night. 

"HT^HE livelong night we've toiled in vain ; 

-*• But at thy gracious word 
I will let down the net again : 

Do thou thy will, O Lord ! " 

So spake the weary fisher, spent 

With bootless, darkling toil, 
Yet on his Master's bidding bent 

For love, and not for spoil. 

So, day by day, and week by week, 

In sad and weary thought, 
They muse whom God hath set to seek 

The souls his Christ hath bought. 



TOILING ALL THE NIGHT. 

For not upon a tranquil lake 

Our pleasant task we ply, 
Where all along our glistening wake 

The softest moonbeams lie ; 

Where rippling wave and dashing oar 

Our midnight chant attend, 
Or whispering palm-leaves from the shore 

With midnight silence blend. 

Sweet thoughts of peace, ye may not last : 

Too soon some ruder sound 
Calls us from where ye soar so fast 

Back to our earthly round. 

For wildest storms our ocean sweep : 

No anchor but the Cross 
Might hold ; and oft the thankless deep 

Turns all our toil to loss. 

Full many a dreary, anxious hour 

We watch our nets alone, 
In drenching spray and driving shower, 

And hear the night-bird's moan. 

At morn we look, and nought is there ; 

Sad dawn of cheerless day ! 
Who, then, from pining and despair 

The sickening heart can stay ? 



19 



20 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

There is a stay, and we are strong : 

Our Master is at hand 
To cheer our solitary song, 

And guide us to the strand, 

In his own time. But yet awhile 

Our bark at sea must ride ; 
Cast after cast, by force or guile, 

All waters must be tried ; 

By blameless guile or gentle force. 

As when he deigned to teach 
(The lone-star of our Christian course) 

Upon this sacred beach. 

Should e'er thy wonder-working grace 

Triumph by our weak arm. 
Let not our sinful fancy trace 

Aught human in the charm. 

To our own nets ne'er bow we down. 

Lest on the eternal shore ^ 
The angels, while our draught they own, 

Reject us evermore. 

Or if, for our unworthiness, 

Toil, prayer, and watching fail, 

In disappointment thou canst blesv 

So love at heart prevail. 

John Kkulk. 



divine adoption. 2 i 

Divine Adoption. 

HOW happy are the new-born race, 
Partakers of adopting grace ! 
How pure the bliss they share ! 
Hid from the world and all its eyes, 
Within their heart the blessing lies, 
And conscience feels it there. 

The moment we believe, 'tis ours ; 
And if we love with all our powers 

The God from whom it came, 
And if we serve with hearts sincere, 
'Tis still discernible and clear, — 

An undisputed claim. 

But, ah ! if foul and wilful sin 
Stain and dishonor us within, 

Farewell the joy we knew ! 
Again the slaves of Nature's sway, 
In labyrinths of our own we stray, 

Without a guide or clew. 

The chaste and pure, who fear to grieve 
The gracious Spirit they receive, 

His work distinctly trace, 
And, strong in undissembling love, 
Boldly assert and clearly prove 

Their hearts his dwelling-place. 



2 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

O Messenger :■: dear delight, 

se voice dispels the deepest night, 

Sweet peace-proclaiming Dove 
With thee at hand to soothe our pains, 
No -wish unsatisfied remains, 

No task but that of love. 

T:s love unites what sin divides ; 
The centre where all bliss resides ; 
To which the soul once brought. 
Reclining on the first great Cav 
From his abounding sweetness dra 
ace passing human thought. 

Sorrow foregoes its nature there ; 
life assumes a tranquil air. 

: ?:ed :■: its - : rs : 
There sovereign goodness soothes the breast. 
Till then incapable of rest, 
In sacred, sure repose. 

If An AMU G'JYQX. 



The Method. 

POOR heart, lament; 
For since thy God refuseth still, 
There is some rub. some discontent, 
Which cools his will. 



THE METHOD. 23 

Thy Father could 
Quickly effect what thou dost move ; 
For he is power : and sure he would ; 

For he is love. 

Go search this thing, 
Tumble thy breast, and turn thy book : 
If thou hadst lost a glove or ring, 

Wouldst thou not look ? 

What do I see 
Written above there ? Yesterday 
I did behave me carelessly 

When I did pray. 

And should God's ear 
To such indifferents chained be, 
Who do not their own motions hear ? 

Is God less free ? 

But stay ! what's there ? 
Late, when I would have something done, 
I had a motion to forbear, 

Yet I went on. 

And should God's ear, 
Which needs not man, be tied to those 
Who hear not him, but quickly hear 

His utter foes ? 



24 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Then once more pray ; 
Down with thy knees, up with thy voice ; 
Seek pardon first, and God will say, 

" Glad heart, rejoice." 

George Herbert. 



Prisoners of Hope. 

PRISONERS of hope, lift up your heads ; 
The day of liberty draws near : 
Jesus, who on the Serpent treads, 

Shall soon in your behalf appear. 
The Lord will to his temple come : 
Prepare your hearts to make him room. 

Ye all shall find, whom in his word 

Himself hath caused to put your trust, 

The Father of our dying Lord 
Is ever to his promise just ; 

Faithful, if we our sins confess, 

To cleanse from all unrighteousness. 

Yes, Lord, we must believe thee kind ; 

Thou never canst unfaithful prove : 
Surely we shall thy mercy find ; 

Who ask shall all receive thy love. 



PRISONERS OF HOPE. 2$ 

Nor canst thou it to me deny : 
I ask, the chief of sinners I. 

O ye of fearful hearts ! be strong ; 

Your downcast eyes and hands lift up ; 
Ye shall not be forgotten long : 

Hope to the end ; in Jesus hope : 
Tell him ye wait his grace to prove; 
And cannot fail, if God is love. 

Prisoners of hope, be strong, be bold ; 

Cast off your doubts ; disdain to fear ; 
Dare to believe ; on Christ lay hold ; 

Wrestle with Christ in mighty prayer ; 
Tell him, " We will not let thee go 
Till we thy name, thy nature, know." 

Hast thou not died to purge our sin, 
And risen thy death for us to plead ; 

To write thy law of love within 

Our hearts, and make us free indeed ? 

That we our Eden might regain 

Thou diedst, and couldst not die in vain. 

Lord, we believe, and wait the hour 
Which all thy great salvation brings : 

The Spirit of love and health and power 
Shall come, and make us priests and kings : 



2 6 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Thou wilt perform thy faithful word, — 
" The servant shall be as his Lord." 

The promise stands forever sure, 
And we shall in thine image shine, 

Partakers of a nature pure, 
Holy, angelical, divine ; 

In spirit joined to thee, the Son, 

As thou art with thy Father one. 

Faithful and true, we now receive 
The promise ratified by thee : 

To thee the when and how we leave, 
In time and in eternity ; 

We only hang upon thy word, — 

"The servant shall be as his Lord." 

Charles Wesley. 



Peace. 

SWEET Peace, where dost thou dwell ? 
humbly crave, 

Let me once know. 
I sought thee in a secret cave, 
And asked if Peace were there. 
\ hollow wind did seem to answer, " No : 
Go seek elsewhere." 



PEACE. 27 

I did, and, going, did a rainbow note : 
" Surely," thought I, 
"This is the lace of Peace's coat; 
I will search out the matter : " 
But, while I looked, the clouds immediately 
Did break and scatter. 

Then went I to a garden, and did spy 
A gallant flower, — 
The crown imperial. " Sure," said I, 
" Peace at the root must dwell ; " 
But, when I digged, I saw a woim devour 
What showed so well. 

At length I met a reverend good old man, 
Whom when for Peace 
I did demand, he thus began : 
" There was a Prince of old 
At Salem dwelt, who lived with good increase 
Of flock and fold. 

" He sweetly lived : yet sweetness did not save 
His life from foes ; 
But, after death, out of his grave 

There sprang twelve stalks of wheat ; 
Which many, wondering at, got some of those 
To plant and set. 



28 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

u It prospered strangely, and did soon disperse 
Through all the earth ; 
For they that taste it do rehearse 
That virtues lie therein, — 
A secret virtue, bringing peace and mirth 
By flight of sin. 

" Take of this grain, which in my garden grows, 
And grows for you ; 
Make bread of it, and then repose ; 
And Peace, which everywhere 
With so much earnestness you do pursue, 
Is only there." 

George Herbert. 



The Indwelling Spirit. 

GRACIOUS Spirit, dwell with me : 
I myself would gracious be, 
And with words that help and heal 
Would thy life in mine reveal, 
And with actions bold and meek 
Would for Christ, my Saviour, speak. 

Truthful Spirit, dwell with me : 
I myself would truthful be, 



THE INDWELLING SPIRIT. 

And with wisdom kind and clear 
Let thy life in mine appear, 
And with actions brotherly 
Speak my Lord's sincerity. 

Tender Spirit, dwell with me : 
I myself would tender be ; 
Shut my heart up like a flower 
At temptation's darksome hour ; 
Open it when shines the sun, 
And his love by fragrance own. 



Silent Spirit, dwell with me : 

I myself would quiet be, — 

Quiet as the growing blade 

Which through earth its way has made 

Silently like morning light, 

Putting mists and chills to flight. 

Mighty Spirit, dwell with me : 
I myself would mighty be, — 
Mighty, so as to prevail 
Where unaided man must fail ; 
Ever, by a mighty hope, 
Pressing on and bearing up. 

Holy Spirit, dwell with me : 
I myself would holy be ; 



29 



3o 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Separate from sin, I would 
Choose and cherish all things good, 
And, whatever I can be, 
Give to Him who gave me thee. 

Thomas Toke Lynch. 



I am His, and He is Mine. 

LONG did I toil, and knew no earthly rest ; 
Far did I rove, and found no certain home : 
At last I sought them in His sheltering breast 

Who opes His arms, and bids the weary come : 
With Him I found a home, a rest divine ; 
And I since then am His, and He is mine. 

Yes, He is mine ; and nought of earthly things, 
Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or 
power, 
The fame of heroes, or the pomp of kings, 

Could tempt me to forego His love an hour. 
" Go, worthless world," I cry, " with all that's 

thine ! 
Go ! I my Saviour's am, and he is mine." 

The good I have is from his stores supplied ; 
The ill is only what he deems the best : 



I AM HIS, AND HE IS MINE. ?i 

He for my friend, I'm rich with nought beside ; 
And poor without him, though of all pos- 
sessed. 
Changes may come ; I take or I resign ; 
Content while I am his, while he is mine. 

Whate'er may change, in him no change is 
seen ; 

A glorious Sun, that wanes not nor declines : 
Above the clouds and storms he walks serene, 

And sweetly on his people's darkness shines. 
All may depart : I fret not, nor repine, 
While I my Saviour's am, while he is mine. 

He stays me falling, lifts me up when down, 
Reclaims me wandering, guards from every 
foe ; 

Plants on my worthless brow the victor's crown, 
Which, in return, before his feet I throw, 

Grieved that I cannot better grace his shrine, 

Who deigns to own me his, as he is mine. 

While here, alas ! I know but half his love, 
But half discern him, and but half adore ; 

But, when I meet him in the realms above, 
I hope to love him better, praise him more, 

And feel and tell, amid the choir divine, 

How fully I am his, and he is mine. 

Henry Francis Lytk. 



32 



hymns of the higher life. 

The Soul's Surrender. 

OH hap::; yce 

On thee, my Saviour and my God ! 
may this 
And tell its raptures all abroad. 

Oh happy bond that seals my vows 

To Him who merits all my love ! 

Let cheer ;ms Gil his house 

While tc thai sacred shrine I move. 

: Tis done ! — the great trans :;one ! 

I am my . and he is mine : 

He ;'rew me. and I followed m, 

Charmed to confess the voice divine. 

y long-divided heart ; 
Fixed on this blissful centre, res: : 
With ashes who would grudge to part, 
When called on angels' bread to feast ? 

that heard the solemn 
That vo . J shall daily hear. 

Till in life's latest hour I b 

And bless in death a bond sc d 

PHIU* EV>DDffl DGK. 



what then? 

What Then? 

AFTER the Christian's tears, 
After his fights and fears, 
After his weary cross, — 
" All things below but loss," — 
What then ? 

Oh ! then, a holy calm, 
Resting on Jesus' arm ; 
Oh ! then, a deeper love 
For the pure home above. 

After this holy calm, 
This rest on Jesus' arm ; 
After this deepened love 
For the pure home above, — 
What then ? 

Oh ! then, a work for him, 
Perishing souls to win ; 
Then Jesus' presence near, 
Death's darkest hour to cheer. 

And when the work is done, 
When the last soul is won, 
When Jesus' love and power 
Have cheered the dying hour. 
What then ? 

3 



33 



34 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Oh ! then, the crown is given ; 
Oh ! then, the rest in heaven ; 
Endless life in endless day ; 
Sin and sorrow passed away. 

E.J. 



Bring the Children with You. 

" HRHE Master has come over Jordan," 

J- Said Hannah, the mother, one day : 
" He is healing the people who throng him, 

With a touch of his finger, they say. 
And now I shall carry the children, 

Little Rachel and Samuel and John ; 
I shall carry the baby, Esther, 

For the Lord to look upon." 

The father looked at her kindly ; 

But he shook his head, and smiled : 
" Now, who but a doting mother 

Would think of a thing so wild ? 
If the children were tortured by demons, 

Or dying of fever, 'twere well ; 
Or had they the taint of the leper, 

Like many in Israel " — 



BRING THE CHILDREN WITH YOU. 35 

" Nay, do not hinder me, Nathan ; 

I feel such a burden of care : 
If I carry it to the Master, 

Perhaps I shall leave it there. 
If he lay his hands on the children, 

My heart will be lighter, I know ; 
For a blessing for ever and ever 

Will follow them as they go." 

So, over the hills of Judah, 

Along the vine-rows green, 
With Esther asleep on her bosom, 

And Rachel her brothers between, 
'Mong the people who hung on his teaching, 

Or waited his touch and his word, 
Through the row of proud Pharisees hastening, 

She pressed to the feet of the Lord. 



" Now, why shouldst thou hinder the Master,'' 

Said Peter, " with children like these ? 
Seest not how, from morning till evening, 

He teacheth, and healeth disease ? " 
Then Christ said, " Forbid not the children ; 

Permit them to come unto me : " 
And he took in his arms little Esther, 

And Rachel he set on his knee. 



36 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

And the heavy heart of the mother 

Was lifted all earth-care above, 
As he laid his hands on the brothers, 

And blessed them with tenderest love ; 
As he said of the babes in his bosom, 

" Of such is the kingdom of heaven ; " 
And strength for all duty and trial 

That hour to her spirit was given. 

Julia Gill. 



My Saviour. 

I AM not skilled to understand 
What God hath willed, what God hath 
planned : 
I only know, at his right hand 

Stands One who is my Saviour. 

I take God at his word and deed : 
" Christ died to save me," — this I read ; 
And in my heart I find a need 
Of him to be my Saviour. 

And had there been, in all this wide, 
Sad world, no other soul beside, 
But only mine, yet he had died 
That he might be its Saviour. 



COME UNTO ME. 



37 



One wounded spirit sore opprest, 
One wearied soul that found no rest 
Until it found it on the breast 

Of him that was its Saviour, — 

Then had he left his Father's throne, 
The joy untold, the love unknown, 
And for that soul had given his own, 
That he might be its Saviour. 

And oh that he fulfilled may see 
The travail of his soul in me, 
And with his work contented be 
As I with my dear Saviour ! 

Yea, living, dying, let me bring 
My strength, my solace, from this spring, 
That he, who lives to be my King, 
Once died to be my Saviour. 

Dora Greenwell. 



Come unto Me. 

ART thou weary ? Art thou languid ? 
Art thou sore distrest ? 
" Come to me," saith One, " and, coming, 
Be at rest." 



38 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Hath he marks to lead me to him, 

If he be my Guide ? 
" In his feet and hands are wound-prints, 
And his side." 

Is there diadem as monarch 
That his brow adorns ? 
" Yes. a crown in very surety, 
But of thorns." 

If I find him, if I follow, 

What his guerdon here ? 
" Many a sorrow, many a labor, 
Many a tear." 

If I still hold closely to him, 

What hath he at last ? 
" Sorrow vanquished, labor ended, 
Jordan passed." 

If I ask him to receive me, 

Will he say me nay ? 
" Not till earth, and not till heaven, 
Pass away." 

Tending, following, keeping, struggling, 

Is he sure to bless ? 
"Angels, martyrs, prophets, pilgrims, 
Answer, Yes." 

From St Stephen 



PRAYER. 3^ 

Prayer. 

OF what an easy, quick access, 
My blessed Lord, art thou ! how suddenly 
May our requests thine ear invade ! 
To show that state dislikes not easiness, 
If I but lift mine eyes, my suit is made : 
Thou canst no more not hear than thou canst die. 

Of what supreme, almighty power 
Is thy great arm, which spans the east and west, 

And tacks the centre to the sphere ! 
By it do all things live their measured hour : 
We cannot ask the thing which is not there, 
Blaming the shallowness of our request. 

Of what unmeasurable love 
Art thou possessed, who, when thou couldst not 
die, 

Wert fain to take our flesh and curse, 
And for our sakes in person sin reprove, 
That, by destroying that which tied thy purse, 
Thou mightst make way for liberality ! 

Since, then, these three wait on thy throne, — 
Ease, Power, and Love, — I value prayer so, 

That were I to leave all but one, 
Wealth, fame, endowments, virtues, all should go ; 



40 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

I ana dear Prayer would together dwell, 
And quickly gain, for each inch lost, an ell. 

George Herbert. 



Pentecost. 

WHEN God of old came down from heaven, 
In power and wrath he came : 
Before his feet the clouds were riven, 
Half darkness and half flame. 

Around the trembling mountain's base 

The prostrate people lay : 
A day of wrath, and not of grace ; 

A dim and dreadful day. 

But, when he came the second time, 

He came in power and love : 
Softer than gale at morning prime 

Hovered his holy Dove. 

The fires that rushed on Sinai down, 

In sudden torrents dread, 
Now gently light, a glorious crown, 

On every sainted head. 



PENTECOST. 4x 

Like arrows went those lightnings forth, 
Winged with the sinner's doom ; 

But these like tongues, o'er all the earth 
Proclaiming life to come. 

And as on Israel's awe-struck ear 

The voice exceeding loud, 
The trump that angels quake to hear, 

Thrilled from the deep, dark cloud ; 

So, when the Spirit of our God 

Came down his flock to find, 
A voice from heaven was heard abroad, — 

A rushing, mighty wind. 

Nor doth the outward ear alone 

At that high warning start : 
Conscience gives back the appalling tone ; 

'Tis echoed in the heart. 

It fills the Church of God ; it fills 

The sinful world around : 
Only in stubborn hearts and wills 

No place for it is found. 

To other strains our souls are set : 

A giddy whirl of sin 
Fills ear and brain, and will not let 

Heaven's harmonies come in. 



42 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Come Lord, come Wisdom, Love, and Power, 

Open our ears to hear ; 

Let us not miss the accepted hour ; 

Save, Lord, by love or fear. 

John Keble. 



Create in Me a Clean Heart. — Ps. li. 

GOD of unfathomable love, 
Whose bowels of compassion move 
Towards Adam's helpless race : 
See, at thy feet, a sinner see ; 
In tender mercy look on me, 
And all my sins efface. 

Oh ! let thy love to me o'erflow, 
Thy multitude of mercies show, 

Abundantly forgive ; 
Remove the insufferable load, 
Blot out my sins with sacred blood, 

And bid the sinner live. 

Take all the power of sin away, 
Nor let in me its being stay ; 

Mine inmost soul convert ; 
Wash me from all the filth of sin : 
Come, Lord, and make me throughly clean ; 

Create me pure in heart. 



CREATE IN ME A CLEAN HEART. 

For all my sins I now confess, 
Bewail my desperate wickedness, 

And sue to be forgiven : 
I have abused thy patient grace, 
I have provoked thee to thy face, 

And dared the wrath of Heaven. 

Thee, only thee, have I defied : 
Though all thy wrath on me abide, 

And my damnation seal, 
Though into outer darkness thrust, 
I'll own the punishment is just, 

And clear my God in hell. 

Cast in the mould of sin I am, 
Corrupt throughout my ruined frame, 

My essence all unclean : 
My total fall from God I mourn ; 
In sin I was conceived and born ; 

Whate'er I am is sin. 

But thou requirest all our hearts, 
Truth rooted in the inward parts, 

Unspotted purity ; 
And, by thy grace, I humbly trust 
To learn the wisdom of the just, 

In secret taught by thee. 



43 



44 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Surely thou wilt thy grace impart, 
Sprinkle the blood upon my heart 

Which did for sinners flow, — 
The blood that purges every sin ; 
The blood that soon shall wash me clean, 

And make me white as snow. 

Thou wilt the mournful spirit cheer, 
And grant me once again to hear 

Thy sweet forgiving voice ; 
That all my bones and inmost soul, 
Broken by thee, by thee made whole, 

May in thy strength rejoice. 

From my misdeeds avert thy face ; 

The strength of sin, by pardoning grace, 

Of all my sin, remove : 
Forgive, O Lord ! but change me too, 
And perfectly my soul renew 

By sanctifying love. 

My wretchedness to thee convert ; 
Give me a humble, contrite heart ; 

My fallen soul restore ; 
Let me the life divine attain, 
The image of my God regain, 

And never lose it more. 



CREA TE IN ME A CLEAN HEART. 

Have patience, till, by thee renewed, 
I live the sinless life of God. 

Here let thy Spirit stay : 
Though I have grieved the gentle Dove, 
Ah ! do not quite withdraw thy love, 

Or take thy grace away. 

The comfort of thy help restore ; 
Assist me now as heretofore ; 

Oh ! lift thou up my head ; 
The Spirit of thy power impart ; 
Stablish and keep my faithful heart, 

And make me free indeed. 

Then shall I teach the world thy ways, 
Thy mercy mild, thy pardoning grace, 

For every sinner free ; 
Till sinners to thy grace submit, 
And fall at their Redeemer's feet, 

And weep and love like me. 

Oh ! might I weep and love thee now, 
God of my health, my Saviour thou ! 

Thou only canst release 
My soul from all iniquity : 
Oh ! speak the word, and set me free, 

And bid me go in peace. 



45 



46 HYMXS OF THE HIGHER L'.FE. 

So shall I sing the Saviour's 112 
Thy gift of righteousness procla 

Thine all-redeeming grace : 
Open my lips. Almighty Lord. 
That I thy mercy may record. 

And glory in thy praise. 

X'o creature-;: : :'. lost thou desire. 
X'o costly sacrifice require : 

Thy pleasure is I 
Thou only seekest me. not mine : 
Thou wouldst that I should take of thine. 

Should all thy grace receive. 

A spirit wounded, sin-distrest, 

A broken heart that pants for res:. — 

This is the sacrif.ie 
Well pleasing in the sight of God : 
A sinner crushed beneath his load 

Then hear the contrite sinner's prayer, 
And every ruined soul repair ; 

Remember Zion's woe ; 
Show forth thy j ^race ; 

And for thyself vouchsafe to raise 

A glorious Church below. 



A GERMAN TRUST-SONG. 



47 



When thou hast sealed thy people's peace, 
Their sacrifice of righteousness, 

Their gifts, thou wilt approve, 
Their every thought and word and deed 
That from a living faith proceed, 

And all are wrought in love. 

Laid on the altar of thy Son, 
Pleasing to thee through Christ alone, 

The dear peculiar race 
Their grateful sacrifice shall bring, 
And hymn their Father and their King 

In endless songs of praise. 

Charles Wfslry. 



A German Trust-Song. 

JUST as God leads me 1 would go ; 
1 would not ask to choose my way ; 
Content with what he will bestow, 

Assured he will not let me stray : 
So as he leads, my path 1 make ; 
And step by step I gladly take, 
A child in him confiding. 



48 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Just as God leads, I am content; 

I rest me calmly in his hands : 
That which he has decreed and sent, 

That which his will for me commands, 
I would that he should all fulfil, 
That I should do his gracious will 

In living or in dying. 

Just as God leads, I all resign ; 

I trust me to my Father's will : 
When reason's rays deceptive shine, 

His counsel would I yet fulfil ; 
That which his love ordained as right 
Before he brought me to the light, — 

My all to him resigning. 

Just as God leads me, I abide 

In faith, in hope, in suffering, true : 

His strength is ever by my side ; 
Can aught my hold on him undo ? 

I hold me firm in patience, knowing 

That God my life is still bestowing, 
The best in kindness sending. 

Just as God leads, I onward go, 
Oft amid thorns and briers keen : 

God does not yet his guidance show ; 
But, in the end, it shall be seen 



THE WHITE RAIMENT. 

How, by a loving Father's will, 
Faithful and true he leads me still, 
My trembling footsteps guiding. 

Lampertius. 



The White Raiment. 

THE babe, the bride, the quiet dead, 
Clad in peculiar raiment all, 
Yet each puts on the spotless white 
Of cradle, shroud, and bridal hall. 

The babe, the bride, the quiet dead, 
Each, entering on an untried home, 

Wears the one badge, the one fair hue, 
Of birth, of wedding, and of tomb. 

Of death and life, of mirth and grief, 
We take it as the symbol true : 

It suits the smile, it suits the sigh, 
That raiment of the stainless hue. 

Not the rich rainbow's varied bloom, — 
That diapason of the light, — 

Not the soft sunset's silken glow, 
Or flush of gorgeous chrysolite ; 



49 



50 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

But purity of perfect light, 

Its native, undivided ray, 
All that is best of moon and sun, 

The purest of the dawn of day. 

O cradle of our youngest age, 

Adorned with white, how fair art thou ! 

O robe of infancy, how bright, 

Like light upon the moorland snow ! 

O bridal hall and bridal robe, 

How silver-bright your jewelled gleam, 
Like sunrise on the gentle face 

Of some translucent mountain stream ! 

O shroud of death, so soft and pure, 
Like starlight upon marble fair ! 

Ah ! surely it is life, not death, 
That in still beauty sleepeth there. 

Mine be a robe more spotless still, 
With lustre bright that cannot fade, 

Purer and whiter than the robe 
Of babe or bride or quiet dead. 

v Mine be the raiment given of God, 

Wrought of fine linen, clean and white, 
Fit for the eye of God to see, 
Meet for his home of holy light. 

HORATIUS BONAR. 



WORKING WITH THEE, 



5* 



Working with Thee. 

WORKING, O Christ! with thee, 
Working with thee ; 
Unworthy, sinful, weak, 

Although we be : 
Our all to thee we give, 
For thee alone would live, 
And by thy grace achieve, 
Working with thee. 

Along the city's waste, 

Working with thee, 
Our eager footsteps haste, 

Like thee to be : 
The poor we gather in, 
The outcasts raise from sin, 
And labor souls to win, 

Working with thee. 

The little ones we greet, 

Working with thee ; 
And oft thy words repeat, 

" Come unto me : " 
From sorrow, want, and gloom. 
We bid them welcome home 
Beneath our sheltering dome, 

Working with thee. 



52 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE 

Saviour, we weary not, 

Working with thee : 
As hard as thine our lot 

Can never be. 
Our joy and comfort this, — 
Thy grace sufficient is : 
This changes toil to bliss, 

Working with thee. 

So let us labor on, 

Working with thee, 
Till earth to thee is won, 

From sin set free ; 
Till men, from shore to shore, 
Receive thee and adore, 
And join us evermore, 

Working with thee. 

Anniv. Female Guardian Society. 



The Friend. 

COMF from the dimness of the past, 
Come from the mystery round thee cast, 
Oh ! come, and let my sad eyes see 
The One who truly loveth me. 



THE FRIEND. 



53 



For thou hast known all human fears ; 
Thine eyes grew dim with pitying tears ; 
Thou bore alone thy heavy cross ; 
Thou felt within all human loss. 

So enter in this silent room. 
And lift for me its veiling gloom : 
Thou feelest all its fearful cost ; 
Be more to me than treasure lost. 

Low kneeling at thy feet, O Christ ! 
The heart that never was sufficed 
Waiteth to have its aching stilled, 
Waiteth to have its measure filled. 

All human need and fear above, 
What is the measure of thy love ? 
By all thy passion, all thy pain, 
Thou'lt wash me pure of earthly stain. 

When life's gay music says, " Rejoice," 
I listen still to hear thy voice ; 
I strive temptation's tide to stem ; 
I try to touch thy garment's hem. 

Can I so love thee, O my Lord ! 
That every promise of thy word 
Will pour out frankincense and balm 
Until the soul grows healed and calm ? 



54 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

When all the pageant of my prime 
Has paled, and passed to autumn-time ; 
When I shall follow all alone 
The beautiful procession flown ; 

When youth and love together fly 
The faded forms of dreams gone by ; 
When I shall say at last, " At best. 
But this remains, — the hope of rest ; " 

As once to woman by the well, 
With gentler words than words can tell, 
Wilt take in thine the lonely hand ? 
Wilt lead me to the living land 

That fair beyond our seeking sight 
Must wait to make complete and right 
Life's far fulfilment, mocking sweet, 
That lures us ever incomplete ? 

O tender-hearted Master ! see 
What love uplifts its cry to thee : 
Like thee, with joy it would have died, 
And for its own been crucified. 

Thou feelest all its fearful cost ; 
Be more than all my treasure lost : 
Oh ! come, and let my sad eyes see 
The One who truly loveth me. 

Mary Clemmer Ames 



NOTHING TO DO. 



Nothing to do. 



55 



" 1\I 0TH1NG t0 do " in this world odours, 
-*- ^ Where weeds spring up with the fairest 
flowers, 
Where smiles have only a fitful play, 
Where hearts are breaking every day ! 

" Nothing to do," thou Christian soul, 
Wrapping thee round in thy selfish stole ! 
Off with the garments of sloth and sin ! 
Christ, thy Lord, hath a kingdom to win. 

" Nothing to do ! " There are prayers to lay 
On the altar of incense, day by day ; 
There are foes to meet within and without ; 
There is error to conquer, strong and stout. 

" Nothing to do ! " There are minds to teach 
The simplest forms of Christian speech ; 
There are hearts to lure, with loving wile, 
From the grimmest haunts of Sin's defile. 

" Nothing to do ! " There are lambs to feed, 
The precious hope of the Church's need ; 
Strength to be borne to the weak and faint ; 
Vigils to keep with the doubting saint. 



5 6 HYMXS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

u Nothing to do ! ;: and thy r said, 

•• Follow thou me in the path I trea 
Lord, lend thy help the journey thic 
Lest, faint, we cry. •• S 3 much to do ! " 

N. E 



My Angel-Dress. 

HEAVENLY Father, I w< 
Angel-garm air : 

Angel-vesture, undented. 

: thou give unto thy child ? 

Not a :' many hue?. 

Such as earthly fathers choose : 
Discord weaves the gaudy vest ; 
Not in such let me be drest. 

Take the raiment soiled a v. 
That I wear with shame to-: 
Give my angel-robes to me, 
White with heaven's own purity 

x away my cloak of pri 
And the worthies- igs twould hide : 
Clothe me in my angel-dress. 
Beautiful with holiness. 



MY ANGEL-DRESS. 

Let me wear the white robes here, 
Even on earth, my Father dear ; 
Holding fast thy hand, and so 
Through the world unspotted go. 

Perfume every fold with love, 
Hinting heaven where'er I rove, 
As an Indian vessel's sails 
Whisper of her costly bales. 

Let me now the white robes wear, 
Then I need no more prepare ; 
All apparelled for my home 
Whensoe'er thou callest, " Come." 

Thus apparelled, I shall be 

As a signal set for thee, 

That the wretched, poor, and weak 

May the same fair garments seek. 

" Buy of me," I hear thee say : 
I have nought wherewith to pay ; 
But I give myself to thee ; 
Clothed, adopted, I shall be. 

Lucv Larcom. 



57 



;s hym the higher life 

The Offering. 

- QAVIOUR, is there any thing 

^ I have failed to bring I 
Lies my offering at thy feet 
Incomplete : 

*• Lord, bethink thee. I am poor ; 

Slender is my store ; 
Yea, my best is nothing worth 
Even on earth. — 

•• Even to men : oh ! then, how small 

To the Lord of all, 
Who, creating worlds ane 

•• Sweeps them lightly from their place 

In the fields of spire : 
Counts the universe as nought 
But a thought ! 

*• Vet. since thou hast deigned to ask. 

Oh. he the task 

(Though the gift be poor) to bring 
Every thi 



THE OFFERING. 

" Every thing ? Alas, this fear ! 

I may yet appear 
Holding some dear bawble fast 
At the last. 

" Saviour, is there any thing 

I have failed to bring ? 
Lies my offering incomplete 
At thy feet ? " 

Answered he, "If thou hast brought, 

Clothing every thought, 
Love to God, and love to man, 
As men can ; 

" Charity for all who stray 

From the narrow way ; 
Eager hands to draw them back, 

And point the track ; 

" Gifts according to thy store 

For the needy poor ; 

In my suffering ones dost see 

Even me ; 

"If thy tears are swift to flow 

For thy brother's woe ; 
Having strength, if thou dost seek 

To raise the weak ; 



59 



6o HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

" If thou dost my mercy show 

Even to thy foe ; 
Grant the pardon proffered thee 
Full and free ; 

" Yea, if thou thy will hast brought, 

Crossing mine in nought ; 

Faith that shall outlast thy breath, 

Strong in death ; 

" Matters not thy world's estate, 

Be it small or great : 
This thy offering, thou dost bring 
Every thing!" 

" Nay, my Lord, my Lord ! " I cried ; 

" I am sorely tried : 
Nothing, nothing have I brought 
That I ought ! 

"Cold my love to thee, Most High ; 

Cold my charity ; 
Idle hands and heart of stone 
Are my own ; 

" Mine an unsubdued will ; 

Faith that gropeth still : 
Yet, O God my Righteousness ! 
Bless, oh ! bless. 



THE OFFERING. 6l 

" This, at least, to thee I bring, — 

Meek petitioning ; 
Humble penitence and pain : 
Is it vain ? 

" Strong desire to serve thee more 

Than I have before, 
And in thy suffering ones to see 

Even thee ! 

" Now, indeed, my tears do flow 

For all others' woe ; 
Tasting grief that doth surpass 
All, alas ! 

" Hear me, Lord of earth and sky ! 

At thy feet I lie ; 
My confessions all I bring, — 
Every thing. 

" Pitying Lord, wilt thou despise 

This my sacrifice ? 
Tell me, Saviour, do I bring 

Any thing?" 

Answered he, "At last, at last, 

Is thy pride o'erpast ! 
Little is thy best, indeed ; 
Great thy need. 



62 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

" Yet, beloved of mv heart, 

I for thee did smart ; 
On the cross, in thy dear stead, 
Bowed my head ; 

" Through Death's sharpest, sorest throes 

I triumphant rose, 
Even that thou mightest be 
Raised with me. 

" Is my love for thee grown less, 

That I should not bless, 
Or the lowliest sacrifice 
Should despise ? 

" Nay, but I am satisfied. 

Having all beside, 
Since that erring heart of thine, 
On my shrine, 

" Broken, contrite, suppliant lies, — 

Sweetest sacrifice ! 
In that offering thou dost bring 
Every thing ! " 

Harriet McEwen Kimball. 



let us dra w near. 63 

Let Us draw Near. 

WHY stand I lingering without, 
In fear and weariness and doubt, 
When all is light within ? 

Thou, the new and living Way, 

The trembler's Guide, the sinner's Stay, 
My High Priest, lead me in ! 

1 know the mercy-seat is there, 

On which thou sitt'st to answer prayer ; 

I know the blood is shed, 
The everlasting covenant sealed, 
The everlasting grace revealed, 

And life has reached the dead ! 

Not the mere paradise below ; 

The heaven of heavens is opened now, 

And we its bliss regain : 
Guarded so long by fire and sword, 
The gate stands wide, the way restored, 

The veil is rent in twain ! 

Without, the cloud and gloom appear ; 
The peril and the storm are near ; 
The foe is raging round : 



64 Hl'MXS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Then let me boldly enter in. 
There end my danger, fear, and sin, 
And rest on holy ground. 

HORATIUS BOXAR. 



Resignation to Christ. 

WHEN shall Thy love constrain, 
And force me to Thy breast ? 
When shall my soul return again 
To her eternal rest ? 

Ah ! what avails my strife, 
My wandering to and fro ? 
Thou hast the words of endless life : 
Ah ! whither should I go ? 

Thy condescending grace 
To me did freely move : 
It calls me still to seek Thy face. 
And stoops to ask my love. 

Lord, at thy feet I fall ; 
I groan to be set free : 
I fain would now obey the call, 
And give up all for thee. 



RESIGNATION TO CHRIST. 

To rescue me from woe 
Thou didst with all things part ; 
Didst lead a suffering life below 
To gain my worthless heart. 

My worthless heart to gain, 
The God of all that breathe 
Was found in fashion as a man, 
And died a cursed death. 

And can I yet delay 
My little all to give ; 
To tear my soul from earth away 
For Jesus to receive ? 

Nay, but I yield, I yield ; 
I can hold out no more : 
I sink, by dying love compelled, 
And own thee conqueror. 

Though late, I all forsake ; 
My friends, my all, resign : 
Gracious Redeemer, take, oh ! take, 
And seal me ever thine. 

Come and possess me whole, 
Nor hence again remove ; 
Settle and fix my wavering soul 
With all thy weight of love. 



65 



66 HVMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

My one desire be this, — 
Thy only love to know ; 
To seek and taste no other bliss, 
No other good, below. 

My Life, my Portion, thou ; 
Thou all-sufficient art : 
My Hope, my heavenly Treasure, now 
Enter, and keep my heart. 

Charles Wesley. 



Thoughts of Christ. 

JESU, the very thought of thee 
With sweetness fills the breast ; 
But sweeter far thy face to see, 
And in thy presence rest. 

No voice can sing, no heart can frame, 

Nor can the memory find, 
A sweeter sound than Jesu's name, 

The Saviour of mankind. 

O hope of every contrite heart ! 

O joy of all the meek ! 
To those who fall how kind thou art ! 

How good to those who seek ! 



A LITTLE BIRD I AM. 67 

But what to those who find ? Ah ! this 
Nor tongue nor pen can show : 

The love of Jesus, what it is, 
None but his loved ones know. 

Jesu, our only joy be thou, 

As thou our prize wilt be ; 
In thee be all our glory now, 

And through eternity. 

Bernard of Fontaine. 



A 



A Little Bird I am. 

COMPOSED IN PRISON. 

LITTLE bird I am, 



Shut from the fields of air ; 
And in my cage I sit, and sing 

To Him who placed me there ; 
Well pleased a prisoner to be, 
Because, my God, it pleases thee. 

Nought have I else to do : 
I sing the whole day long ; 
And He whom most I love to please 
Doth listen to my song : 



68 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

He caught and bound my wandering wino 
But still He bends to hear me sing. 

Thou hast an ear to hear, 

A heart to love and bless ; 
And, though my notes were e'er so rude, 

Thou wouldst not hear the less ; 
Because Thou knowest, as they fall, 
That love, sweet love, inspires them all. 

My cage confines me round ; 

Abroad I cannot fly : 
But, though my wing is closely bound, 

My heart's at liberty. 
My prison-walls cannot control 
The flight, the freedom, of the soul. 

Oh ! it is good to soar 
These bolts and bars above, 
To Him whose purpose I adore, 

Whose providence I love ; 
And in Thy mighty will to find 
T'he joy, the freedom, of the mind. 

Madame Guyon. 



forsaken, yet hoping. 69 

Forsaken, yet Hoping. 

HAPPY the hours, the golden days, 
When I could call my Jesus mine, 
And sit and view his smiling face, 
And melt in pleasures all divine. 

Near to my heart, within my arms, 
He lay, till sin defiled my breast ; 

Till broken vows and earthly charms 
Tired and provoked my heavenly Guest. 

And now he's gone, (oh mighty woe ! ) 
Gone from my soul, and hides his love ! 

Curse on you, sins, that grieved him so, — 
Ye sins that forced him to remove ! 

Break, break, my heart ; complain, my tongue ; 

Hither, my friends, your sorrows bring ; 
Angels, assist my doleful song, 

If you have e'er a mournful string. 

But, ah ! your joys are ever high ; 

Ever his lovely face you see ; 
While my poor spirits pant and die, 

And groan for thee, my God, — for thee. 



70 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Yet let my hope look through my tears, 
And spy afar his rolling throne : 

His chariot, through the cleaving spheres, 
Shall bring the bright Beloved down. 

Swift as a roe flies o'er the hills, 

My soul springs out to meet him high ; 

Then'the fair Conqueror turns his wheels, 
And climbs the mansions of the sky. 

There smiling joy forever reigns ; 

No more the turtle leaves the dove : 
Farewell to jealousies and pains, 

And all the ills of absent love ! 

Isaac Watts. 



Our Master. 

IMMORTAL Love, forever full, 
Forever flowing free, 
Forever shared, forever whole, 
A never-ebbing sea ! 

Our outward lips confess the name 

All other names above : 
Love only knoweth whence it came, 

And comprehendeth love. 



OUR MASTER. 



7* 



Blow, winds of God, awake, and blow 

The mists of earth away ; 
Shine out, O Light divine ! and show 

How wide and far we stray. 

Hush every lip, close every book, 
The strife of tongues forbear : 

Why forward reach, or backward look, 
For love that clasps like air ? 

We may not climb the heavenly steeps 
To bring the Lord Christ down : 

In vain we search the lowest deeps 
For Him no depths can drown. 

Nor holy bread, nor blood of grape, 

The lineaments restore 
Of Him we know in outward shape 

And in the flesh no more. 

He cometh not a King to reign ; 

The worlds long hope is dim : 
The weary centuries watch in vain 

The clouds of heaven for him. 

Death comes ; life goes ; the asking eye 

And ear are answerless ; 
The grave is dumb ; the hollow sky 

Is sad with silentness. 



J 2 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

The letter fails, and systems fall, 

And every symbol wanes : 
The Spirit over-brooding all, 

Eternal Love, remains. 

And not for signs in heaven above 

Or earth below they look, 
Who know with John his smile of love, 

With Peter his rebuke. 

In joy of inward peace, or sense 

Of sorrow over sin, 
He is his own best evidence : 

His witness is within. 

No fable old, nor mythic lore, 
Nor dream of bards and seers, 

No dead fact stranded on the shore 
Of the oblivious years. 

But warm, sweet, tender, even yet 

A present help is he : 
And faith has still its Olivet ; 

And love, its Galilee. 

The healing of his seamless dress 

Is by Qur beds of pain : 
We touch him in life's throng and press, 

And we are whole again. 



OUR MASTER. 



73 



Through him the first fond prayers are said 

Our lips of childhood frame ; 
The last low whispers of our dead 

Are burdened with his name. 

O Lord and Master of us all ! 

Whate'er our name or sign, 
We own thy sway, we hear thy call, 

We test our lives by thine. 

Thou judgest us ; thy purity 

Doth all our lusts condemn ; 
The love that draws us nearer thee 

Is hot with wrath to them. 

Our thoughts lie open to thy sight ; 

And, naked to thy glance, 
Our secret sins are in the light 

Of thy pure countenance. 

Thy healing pains ; a keen distress 

Thy tender light shines in ; 
Thy sweetness is the bitterness ; 

Thy grace, the pang of sin. 

Yet, weak and blinded though we be, 

Thou dost our service own : 
We bring our varying gifts to thee, 

And thou rejectest none. 



74 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

To thee our full humanity, 

Its joys and pains, belong : 
The wrong of man to man on thee 

Inflicts a deeper wrong. 

Who hates, hates thee ; who loves, becomes 

Therein to thee allied : 
All sweet accords of hearts and homes 

In thee are multiplied. 

Deep strike thy roots, O heavenly Vine ! 

Within our earthly sod, 
Most human and yet most divine, 

The flower of man and God. 

O Love ! O Life ! — our faith and sight 

Thy presence maketh one ; 
As through transfigured clouds of white 

We trace the noonday sun. 

So. to our mortal eyes subdued, 
Flesh-veiled, but not concealed, 

We know in thee the fatherhood 
And heart of God revealed. 

We faintly hear, we dimly see, 

In differing phrase we pray ; 
But, dim or clear, we own in thee 

The Light, the Truth, the Way. 



OUR MASTER. 

The homage that we render thee 

Is still our Father's own : 
Nor jealous claim or rivalry 

Divides the Cross and Throne. 

To do thy will is more than praise, 
As words are less than deeds ; 

And simple trust can find thy ways 
We miss with chart of creeds. 

No pride of self thy service hath, 

No place for me and mine : 
Our human strength is weakness, death 

Our life, apart from thine. 

Apart from thee, all gain is loss, 

All labor vainly done : 
The solemn shadow of thy cross 

Is better than the sun. 

Alone, O Love ineffable ! 

Thy saving name is given : 
To turn aside from thee is hell, 

To walk with thee is heaven. 

How vain, secure in all thou art, 

Our noisy championship ! 
The sighing of the contrite heart 

Is more than flattering lip. 



75 



j6 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Not thine the bigot's partial plea, 

Nor thine the zealot's ban : 
Thou well canst spare a love of thee 

Which ends in hate of man. 

Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord, 

What may thy service be ? 
Nor name, nor form, nor ritual word, 

But simply following thee. 

We bring no ghastly holocaust, 

We pile no graven stone : 
He serves thee best who loveth most 

His brothers and thy own. 

Thy litanies, sweet offices 

Of love and gratitude ; 
Thy sacramental liturgies, 

The joy of doing good. 

In vain shall waves of incense drift 

The vaulted nave around, 
In vain the minster turret lift 

Its brazen weights of sound. 

The heart must ring thy Christmas-bells, 

Thy inward altars raise : 
Its faith and hope thy canticles ; 

And its obedience, praise. 

Whittier. 



THE LOVE OF GOD. 7/ 



The Love of God. 

BLEST be thy love, dear Lord, 
That taught us this sweet way, - 
Only to love thee for thyself, 
And for that love obey. 

O Thou, our soul's chief hope ! 
We to thy mercy fly : 
Where'er we are, thou canst protect ; 
Whate'er we need, supply. 

Whether we sleep or wake, 
To thee we both resign : 
By night we see as well as day, 
If thy light on us shine. 

Whether we live or die, 
Both we submit to thee : 
Ja death we live, as well as life. 
if thine in death we be. 

F. AUSTIN. 



78 hymns of the higher life. 

'•When thou hast shut thy Door, pray." 

LORD. I have shut my door, — 
Shut out life's busy cares and fretting 
noise : 
Here in this silence they intrude no more. 

Speak thou, and heavenly joys 
Shall till my heart with music sweet and calm, — 
A holy psalm. 

Yes. I have shut my door 
Even on all the beauty of thine earth. — 
To its blue ceiling from its emerald floor. 

Filled with spring's bloom and mirth : 
From these thy works I turn, thyself I seek, 
To thee I speak. 

And I have shut my door 
On earthly passion, — all its yearning love, 
Its tender friencsnips, all the priceless store 

Of human ties. Above 
All these my heart aspires. O Heart divine ! 
Stoop thou to mine. 

Lord. I have shut my door ! 
Come thou and visit me : I am alone ! 



CHRIST 1.0 VED UNSEEN. 



79 



Come, as when doors were shut thou cam'st of 

yore, 

And visitedst thine own. 

My Lord ! I kneel with reverent love and fear ; 

For thou art here ! 

Mary E. Atkinson. 



Christ loved Unseen. 

JESUS, these eyes have never seen 
That radiant form of thine : 
The veil of sense hangs dark between 
Thy blessed face and mine. 

I see thee not, I hear thee not ; 

Yet art thou oft with me ; 
And earth hath ne'er so dear a spot 

As where I meet with thee. 

Like some bright dream, that comes unsought 

When slumbers o'er me roll, 
Thine image ever fills my thought, 

And charms my ravished soul. 

Yet though I have not seen, and still 

Must rest in faith alone, 
I love thee, dearest Lord, and will, 

Unseen, but not unknown. 



O HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

When death these mortal eyes shall seal, 
And still this throbbing heart, 

The rending veil shall thee reveal, 
All glorious as thou art. 

Ray Palmer. 



"Abide in Me, and I in You." 

THE SOUL'S ANSWER. 

THAT mystic word of thine, O sovereign 
Lord! 
Is ail too pure, too high, too deep, for me : 
Weary of striving, and with longing faint, 
I breathe it back again in prayer to thee. 

Abide in me, I pray, and I in thee ; 

From this good hour, oh ! leave me never- 
more : 
Then shall the discord cease, the wound be 
healed, 
The lifelong bleeding of the soul be o'er. 

Abide in me ; o'ershadow by thy love 

Each half-formed purpose and dark thought 
of sin ; - 

Quench, e'er it rise, each selfish, low desire ; 
And keep my soul as thine, calm and divine. 



/ HAVE FOUND IT. 8l 

As some rare perfume in a vase of clay 
Pervades it with a fragrance not its own, 

So, when thou dwellest in a mortal soul, 
All heaven's own sweetness seems around 
thrown. 

Abide in me. There have been moments blest 
When I have heard thy voice and felt th 
power : 

Then evil lost its grasp ; and passion, hushed, 
Owned the divine enchantment of the hour. 

These were but seasons beautiful and rare ; 

Abide in me, and they shall ever be: 
Fulfil at once thy precept and my prayer ; 

Come and abide in me, and I in thee. 

Harriet Beecher Sto. 



I HAVE FOUND It. 

COME, and rejoice with me : 
For once my heart was poor ; 
And I have found a treasury * 

Of love, a boundless store. 

Come, and rejoice with me : 
I, who was sick at heart, 
Have met with One who knows my case, 
And knows the healing art. 

6 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Come, and rejoice with me : 
For I was wearied sore ; 
And I have found a mighty arm, 
Which holds me evermore. 

Come, and rejoice with me : 
My feet so wide did roam ! 
And One has sought me from afar, 
And beareth me safe home. 

Come, and rejoice with me ; 
For I have found a Friend 
Who knows my heart's most secret depths, 
Yet loves me without end. 

I knew not of his love, 
And he had loved so long, 
With love so faithful and so deep, 
So tender and so strong ! 

And now I know it all, 
Have heard and know his voice, 
And hear it still from day to day : 
Can I enough rejoice ? 

Mrs. Cuai;lss. 



pencil-marks. 83 

Pencil-Marks in a Book of Devotion. 

STRONG words are these: "O Lord! I 
seek but thee, 
Not thine. I ask not comfort, ask not rest : 
Give what and how and when thou wilt to me, 
1 bless thee ; take all back, and be thou 
blest." 

Sweet words are these : " O Lord ! it is thy love, 
And not thy gifts, I seek ; yet am as one 

That loveth so, I prize the least above 
All other worth or sweetness under sun." 

And all these lines are underscored, and here 
And there a tear hath been and left its stain,— 

The only record, haply, of a tear 

Long wiped from eyes no more to weep again 

And, as I gaze, a solemn joy comes o'er me : 
By these deep footprints, I can surely guess 

Some pilgrim, by the road that lies before me, 
Hath crossed, long time ago, the wilderness. 

With feet oft bruised among its sharp flints, 
duly 

He turned aside to gather simples here, 
And lay up cordials for his faintness : truly, 

Now will I track his steps, and be of cheer. 



84 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

And, wearied, by this wayside fountain's brink 
He sat to rest ; and, as it then befell, 

The stone was rolled away: he stooped to drink 
The waters springing up from life's clear well. 

And oft, upon his journey faring sadly. 

He communed with this Teacher from on 
high ; 
And, meeting words of promise, meekly, gladly, 
Went on his way rejoicing. So will I. 

Dora Greenwell. 



The Refuge. 

TO the haven of thy breast, 
O Son of Man ! I fly : 
Be my refuge and my rest ; 

For, oh ! the storm is high. 
Save me from the furious blast ; 
A covert from the tempest be : 
Hide me, Jesus, till o'erpast 
The storm of sin I see. 

Welcome as the water-spring 
To a dry, barren place, 

Oh ! descend on me, and bring 
Thy sweet, refreshing grace. 



THE REFUGE. 



85 



O'er a parched and weary land 
As a great rock extends its shade, 

Hide me, Saviour, with thine hand, 
And screen my naked head. 

In the time of my distress, 

Thou hast my succor been ; 
In my utter helplessness, 

Restraining me from sin : 
Oh, how swiftly didst thou move 

To save me in the trying hour ! 
Still protect me with thy love, 

And shield me with thy power. 

First and last in me perform 

The work thou hast begun ; 
Be my shelter from the storm, 

My shadow from the sun : 
Weary, parched with thirst and faint, 

Till thou the abiding Spirit breathe, 
Every moment, Lord, I want 

The merit of thy death. 

Never shall I want it less 

When thou the gift hast given, 

Filled me with thy righteousness, 
And sealed the heir of heaven : 



86 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

I shall hang upon my God 
Till I thy perfect glory see ; 

Till the sprinkling of thy blood 
Shall speak me up to thee. 

Charles Wesley. 



u Ye did it not to Me." 

I SAT, and gazed upon my sunny home : 
All pleasant things were there, — 
Bright things to look at, and sweet soothing 

sounds 
That came and went upon the perfumed air. 
The sunbeam glanced and quivered 
Through the many-colored pane, 
And the marble floor at the open door 

Mirrored it back again ; 
The flowers blushed in beauty ; 
The birds sang forth their glee : 
looked, and listened ; and I thanked my Father 
That 'twas all for me. 

r\nd then I thought of One who had been here 

In days of yore, 
Wearily walking on the world he made, — 



YE DID IT NOT TO ME. 87 

The Son of man, and yet the Son of God ; 

Despised and poor ! 
I thought of him when first his infant form 
Needed a resting-place, and there was none : 
The King of Heaven was waiting to be housed ; 

Earth's dwellings had no room ! 
I thought of him upon the mountain-side, 

When all night long 
The silent stars looked down upon, his loneli- 
ness ; 
For Jesus had no home ! 

I thought and thought, until my gushing heart 
Groaned forth its longings : 
" Oh ! had 1 been there, 
What tender ministry, what fostering care, 

Wouldst thou have known, 

Thou blessed One ! 

What kindly words ! 
What thoughts and deeds of love ! " 
The hot tears gathered fast : 
I laid me down and wept 

Was it a breeze that stole into my room, 

So like a voice ? 
That came quite close, — close to my burning 
brow, — 
And whispered, "Why not now f'' 



88 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

It came again : I brushed the tears away ; 
And, as I bent my head down very low, 
I thought I heard him say, 
" But why not now ? 

" There is a doorway in a narrow street, 
And close beside that door a broken stair, 

And then a low, dark room. 
The room is bare : 

But in a corner lies 
A worn-out form upon a hard straw-bed, 
No pillow underneath his aching head ; 
A face grown wan with suffering, and a hand 
Scarce strong enough to reach the small dry 
crust 

That lies upon the chair 

Go in ; for I am there ! 
I have been waiting wearily in that cold room, 

Waiting long, lonely hours, — 

Waiting for thee to come. 

"There's a low, quiet corner in a green church- 
yard, 
Where deep shadows lie, 
And sound of passing feet goes seldom by : 

1 want thee there. 
In that still place, beside a new-made grave, 
A woman has been weeping all day long. 



YE DID IT NOT TO ME. 89 

None marked her where she sate ; 
And now 'tis getting late, 
And stars are coming out, — 
Beautiful stars ! the stars 
That used to gaze on me at Olivet ; 
The chill night-dews are creeping through her 

frame : 
She dares not venture back from whence she 
came. 

She needs a home : 
I called for thee, and waited ; 
But thou didst not come. 
I want thy pitying tears, that fell just now 
Upon the jewelled slab, to fall upon her cheek ; 

For tears can speak : 
Lay thy warm hand upon the fainting one, 
And leave me not to watch and weep alone. 

" There is one seated near an open door, 
Where to and fro, all through the busy day, 
The sorrowing and the poor 
Have found their way ; 
And now, for very weariness, 
His eyes are closed, — 
Kind, earnest eyes, that have looked lovingly 
On many a ghastly spectacle of woe, — 
Looked into depths where loathsome miseries 
lie, 



9o 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



And never wept mere idle sympathy. 
The heavy hand has fallen by his side, — 
The strong, brave hand 
That waited my command, 
And then did deadly battle with the foe ; 
That never flinched from any task 

To which I called : 
Were the way smooth or rough, 
My bidding was enough. 
Go in, and look ; 
For tears have dropped upon the open book ! 

" That heart is burdened, — 

Burdened for my sake : 
Thou, in thy thoughtless ease, wilt let it break ! 
'Twas on a summer's day, long years ago, 
I called two willing servants to my feet : 
I took them by the hand, and said to each, 

1 I shed my blood for thee : 
Lovest thou me ? ' 

And then I gave him work, — 

Large work within my fold. 

He had no earthly store 

Wherewith to feed my poor : 
It mattered not ; I'd given thee my gold. 
Where is it now ? Look at that pallid brow, 

Sunk in its weary sleep : 

The furrows are too deep ; 



YE DID IT NOT TO ME 



91 



They tell the tale of many an anxious grief, — 
Not his, but mine ! 

"Whence comes the wasting of that haggard 
cheek ? 

The guilt is thine. 
He gave me all his time and strength and 

health : 
I took it, and then asked thee for thy wealth, — 
Thy given wealth ; asked that it might be free, 
Held in thine open hand for him and me. 
Then came the years of conflict and of toil, 
The days of labor and the nights of prayer ; 

Souls perishing in sin, 

Few hands to fetch them in ; 

The hungry to be fed ; 

The naked to be clothed ; 

The outcast and the poor 

Gathering about the door. 
I wanted money, and I wanted bread ; 
I wanted all that willing hands could do ; 
I wanted the quick ear and ready eye, 
Ay, and the deep, true soul of sympathy ; 
I wanted help, and then I called for thee : 
I called and waited, and then called again. 
Oh ! could it be that I should call in vain ? 
1 called and waited, 

And thou didst not come ! " 



92 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE 



I tried to hold my breath, and hear him speak ; 
But 'twas as though my throbbing heart must 
break. 
I could not lift my head ; 
I could not sigh : 
The crimson shame had burnt into my cheek. 
I had no tears ; the very fount was dry. 
Oh ! it was long, I cannot tell how long 

That strange, cold stillness ! 
But I felt that he was waiting there, — 

Waiting for me to speak. 
I knelt upon the floor, and breathed his name : 
Then, struggling, one by one the faint words 
came, — 
" Jesus, I thought I loved thee : 

I remember well 
That day when thou didst hold 
My trembling fingers in thy pierced hand, 
And take me for thine own. 

"And I did love thee ; 

This poor heart beat true : 
It was no fancied echo when the voice 
That spoke thee mine 

Responded, ' I am thine ! ' 
But, O my Master ! can I dare to tell, 
Thy faithless child has loved thy gifts too well ? 



YE DID IT NOT TO ME. 93 

I looked on all things beautiful and rare, — 

Looked on earth's flowers, 

And thought them very fair. 
I hid me from the rude and vulgar throng, 

And hoped it was thy will 
That I might turn away from common men, 

And love thee still. 
I dwelt among the pleasant sounds of life : 
I did not like the turmoil and the strife 

To come too near. 
And thou wast in the thickest battle-tide 
When thou didst call thy servant to thy side ; 

But I was too far off, 

And so I did not hear. 

" My Lord, I will come nearer ; I will take my 
seat 

Close to thy feet ; 
I will come down where the gray shadows lie, 
And there I'll listen, — listen every day 

To hear thy voice. 
It may be I must take a lower place ; 
But let me have the shining of thy face. 
It may be I must seek a humbler home ; 
Let it be one where thou wilt often come : 
Its door shall be upon the latch for thee, 
And for the needy ones who claim 
An interest in thy name ; 



04 



HYMXS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



And I will stand and watch and wait to greet 
The first faint echoes of thy coming feet." 

N. Y. Observer 



A Sacramental Hymn. 

HERE. O my Lord ! I see thee face to face ; 
Here would I touch and handle things 
unseen ; 
Here grasp with firmer hand the eternal grace, 
And all my weariness upon thee lean. 

Here would I feed upon the bread of God. 
Here drink with thee the royal wine of heaven 
Here would I lay aside each earthly load, 
Here taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven. 

I have no help but thine, nor do I need 

Another arm save thine to lean upon : 

It is enough, my Lord, enough indeed. 

My strength is in thy might, — thy might alone 

I have no wisdom save in Him who is 
My Wisdom and my Teacher both in one : 
No wisdom can I lack while thou art wise ; 
No teaching do I crave, save thine alone. 



THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH. 



95 



Mine is the sin, but thine the righteousness ; 
Mine is the guilt, but thine the cleansing blood. 
This is my robe, my refuge, and my peace, — 
Thy blood, thy righteousness, O Lord my God ! 

Too soon we rise ; the symbols disappear ; 
The feast, but not the love, is passed and gone : 
The bread and wine remove ; but thou art here, 
Nearer than ever, — still my shield and sun. 

Feast after feast thus comes and passes by, 
Yet, passing, points to the great feast above ; 
Giving sweet foretastes of the festal joy, — 
The Lamb's great bridal feast of bliss and love. 

HORATIUS BONAR. 



The Holy Catholic Church. 

JERUSALEM, my happy home, 
When shall I come to thee ? 
When shall my sorrows have an end ? 
Thy joys when shall I see ? 

O happy harbor of the saints ! 

O sweet and pleasant soil ! 
In thee no sorrow may be found ; 

No grief, no care, no toil. 



96 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

There lust and lucre cannot dwell ; 

There envy bears no sway ; 
There is no hunger, heat, nor cold, 

But pleasure every way. 

Thy walls are made of precious stones ; 

Thy bulwarks, diamonds square ; 
Thy gates are of right Orient pearl, 

Exceeding rich and rare. 

Thy turrets and thy pinnacles 

With carbuncles do shine ; 
Thy very streets are paved with gold, 

Surpassing clear and fine. 

Ah my sweet home, Jerusalem 

Would God I were in thee ! 
Would God my woes were at an end, 

Thy joys that I might see ! 

Thy saints are crowned with glory great; 

They see God face to face ; 
They triumph still ; they still rejoice : 

Most happy is their case. 

We that are here in banishment 

Continually do moan : 
We sigh and sob ; we weep and wail ; 

Perpetually we groan. 



THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH. 97 

Our sweet is mixed with bitter gall ; 

Our pleasure is but pain ; 
Our joys scarce last the looking-on ; 

Our sorrows still remain. 

But there they live in such delight, 

Such pleasure, and such play, 
As that to them a thousand years 

Doth seem as yesterday. 

Thy gardens and thy gallant walks 

Continually are green : 
There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers 

As nowhere else are seen. 

Quite through the streets, with silver sound, 

The flood of life doth flow ; 
Upon whose banks, on every side, 

The wood of life doth grow. 

There trees forevermore bear fruit, 

And evermore do spring ; 
There evermore the angels sit, 

And evermore do sing. 

Jerusalem, my happy home, 

Would God I were in thee : 

Would God my woes were at an end, 

Thy joys that I might see ! 

F. B. P. 



98 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



When I awake, I am still with Thee. 

STILL, still with Thee, when purple morning 
breaketh, 
When the bird waketh and the shadows flee : 
Fairer than morning, lovelier than the day- 
light, 
Dawns the sweet consciousness, "/ am with 
Thee!" 

Alone with Thee amid the mystic shadows, 
The solemn hush of Nature newly born ; 

Alone with Thee in breathless adoration 
In the calm dew and freshness of the morn. 



As in the dawning o'er the waveless ocean 
The image of the morning-star doth rest, 

So in this stillness Thou beholdest only 
Thine image in the waters of my breast. 

Still, still with Thee ! As to each new-born 
morning 
A fresh and solemn splendor still is given, 
So doth this blessed consciousness, awaking, 
Breathe, eacrr day, nearness unto Thee and 
heaven. 



THE MASTER'S INVITATION. 99 

When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slum- 
ber, 

Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer : 
Sweet the repose beneath the wings o'ershading, 

But sweeter still to wake and find Thee there. 

So shall it be at last, in that bright morning 
When the soul waketh, and life's shadows flee : 

Oh, in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning, 
Shall rise the glorious thought, "/ am with 
Thee / " 

Harriet Beecher Stowe. 



The Master's Invitation. 

DEAR Lord, thy table is outspread : 
What other could such feast afford ? 
And thou art waiting at the head ; 
But I am all unworthy, Lord : 
Yet do I hear thee say, 

(Was ever love so free ?) 
" Come hither, son, to-day, 
And sit and sup with me." 

O Master ! I am full of doubt ; 

My heart with sin and fear denied : 



IOO HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Come thou, and cast the Tempter out, 
And make me as a little child. 
Methinks I hear thee say, 

" Come thou at once, and see 
What love can take away, 
And what confer on thee." 

My Lord, to thee I fain would go, 

Yet tarry now, 1 know not why : 

Speak, if to tell what well I know, — 

That none are half so vile as I. 

What do I hear thee say ? — 

" Look, trembling one, and see 
These tokens, which to-day 
Tell what I did for thee." 

Nay, Lord ! I could not here forget 

What thou didst for my ransom give, 
The garden prayer, the bloody sweat ; 
All this, and more, that I might live. 
I hear thee sadly say, 

" If this remembered be, 
Why linger thus to-day ? 

Why doubt and question me ? " 

Oh love to angels all unknown ! 

I turn from sin and self aside : 
Thou hast the idol self o'erthrown ; 

I only see the Crucified ; 



SITTING AT THE FEET OF JESUS. ioi 

I only hear thee say, 

"A feast is spread for thee 

On this and every day, 
If thou but follow me." 

A. D. F. Randolph. 



Sitting at the Feet of Jesus. 

SITTING at the feet of Jesus, 
Oh, what words I hear him say ! 
Happy place ! so near, so precious ! 
May it find me there each day ! 

Sitting at the feet of Jesus, 
I would look upon the past ; 

For his love has been so gracious, 
It has won my heart at last. 

Sitting at the feet of Jesus : 
Where can mortal be more blest ? 

There I lay my sins and sorrows, 
And, when weary, find sweet rest. 

Sitting at the feet of Jesus, 
I would wait my way to see ; 

Leaning, trusting, and confiding, 
Since he orders all for me. 



102 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Sitting at the feet of Jesus, 

Holy happiness I find : 
In the secret of his presence 

He reveals to me his mind. 

Sitting at the feet of Jesus, 

There I love to weep and pray, 

While I from his fulness gather 
Grace and comfort every day. 

Sitting at the feet of Jesus, 

1 would choose that better part, 

Flee from earthly cares and pleasures, 
While I tell him all my heart. 

Sitting at the feet of Jesus, 
I there learn his will divine ; 

See his smile, and catch his sweetness, 
As he whispers, " Thou art mine." 

Sitting at the feet of Jesus, 
I would pray to be kept there : 

Clothed and hidden, washed, forgiven, 
I may lay aside all fear. 

Bless me, O my Saviour ! bless me, 

As I sit low at thy feet : 
Oh ! look down in love upon me ; 

Let me see thy face so sweet. 



THE FELLOWSHIP OF SUFFERING. 

Give me, Lord, the mind of Jesus ; 

Make me holy as he is : 
May I prove I've been with Jesus, 

Who is all my righteousness ! 

J. H. 



The Fellowship of Suffering. 

THY cruel crown of thorns ! 
But where, O Lord ! is mine ? 
Are there for me no scoffs and scorns, 
Since only such were thine ? 

Or, having named thy name, 
Shall I no burden take ? 
And is there left no thorn, no shame, 
To suffer for thy sake ^ 

Unscourged of any whip, 
Unpierced of any sting, — 
O Lord, how faint my fellowship 
With thy sad suffering ! 

Yet thy dread sacrifice 
So fills my soul with woe, 
That all the fountains of mine eyes 
Well up and overflow. 



103 



io4 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

The spear that pierced thy side 
Gave wounds to more than thee : 
Within my soul, O Crucified ! 
Thy cross is laid on me. 

And as thy rocky tomb 
Was in a garden fair, 
Where round about stood flowers in bloom, 
To sweeten all the air : 

So, in my heart of stone, 
I sepulchre thy death ; 
While thoughts of thee, like roses bluwn, 
Bring sweetness in their breath. 

Arise not, O my Dead ! 
As one whom Mary sought, 
And found an empty tomb instead, 
Her spices all for nought. 

O Lord ! not so depart 
From my enshrining breast ; 
But lie anointed in a heart 
That by thy death is blest. 

Or, if thou shalt arise. 
Abandon not thy grave, 
But bear it with thee to the skies, — 
A heart that thou shalt save. 

Theodore Tilton. 



THE THRONE OF GRACE. 



The Throne of Grace. 



io5 



rHERE is a spot of consecrated ground 
Where brightest hopes and holiest joys 
are found : 
Tis named (and Christians love the well-known 
sound) 

The throne of grace. 

Tis here a calm retreat is always found : 
Perpetual sunshine gilds the sacred ground ; 
Pure airs and heavenly odors breathe around 
The throne of grace. 

While on this vantage-ground the Christian 
stands, 

His quickened eye a boundless view com- 
mands ; 

Discovers fair abodes not made with hands, — 
Abodes of peace. 

Terrestrial objects, disenchanted there, 
Lose all their power to dazzle or insnare : 
One only object then seems worth our care, — 
To win the race. 

This is the mount where Christ's disciples see 
The glory of incarnate Deity : 
'Tis here they find it good indeed to be, 
And view his face. 



Io6 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

A new creation here begins to rise, — 
Fruits of the Spirit, flowers of Paradise, 
Watered from heaven, in full and sure supplies, 
By streams of grace. 

Towards this blest spot the Spirit bends his ear, 
The fervent prayer, the contrite sigh, to hear ; 
To bid the mourner banish every fear, 
And go in peace. 

Here may the comfortless and weary find 
One who can cure the sickness of the mind ; 
One who delights the broken heart to bind, — 
The Prince of Peace. 

Saviour ! the sinner's friend, our hope, our all ! 
Here teach us humbly at thy feet to fall ; 
Here on thy name with love and faith to call 
For pardoning grace. 

Ne'er let the glory from this spot remove, 
Till, numbered with thy ransomed flock above, 
We cease to want, but never cease to love, 
The throne of grace. 

Miss Charlotte Elliott. 



perfection. 107 

Perfection. 

OH, how the thought of God attracts 
And draws the heart from earth, 
And sickens it of passing shows 
And dissipating mirth ! 

'Tis not enough to save our souls ; 

To shun the eternal fires : 
The thought of God will rouse the heart 

To more sublime desires. 

God only is the creature's home, 
Though long and rough the road ; 

Yet nothing less can satisfy 
The love that longs for God. 

Oh ! utter but the name of God 

Down in your heart of hearts, 
And see how from the world at once 

All tempting light departs. 

A trusting heart, a yearning eye, 

Can win their way above : 
If mountains can be moved by faith, 

Is there less power in love ? 



to8 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

How little of that road, my soul. 

How little, hast thou gone ! 
Take heart, and let the thought of God 

Allure thee farther on. 

The freedom from all wilful sin. 
The Christian's daily task, — 

Oh ! these are graces far below 
What longing love would ask. 

Dole not thy duties out to God ; 

But let thy hand be free : 
Look long at Jesus : his sweet blood — 

How was it dealt to thee ? 

The perfect way is hard to flesh : 

It is not hard to love. 
If thou wert sick for want of God, 

How swiftly wouldst thou move ! 

Good is the cloister's silent shade, 
Cold watch, and pining fast ; 

Better the mission's wearing strife. 
If there thy lot be cast. 

Yet none of these perfection needs : 
Keep thy heart calm all day. 

And catch the words the Spirit there 
From hour to hour may say. 



DRAW ME TO THEE. 1 09 

Oh ! keep thy conscience sensitive ; 

No inward token miss ; 
And go where grace entices thee : 

Perfection lies in this. 

Be docile to thine unseen Guide ; 

Love him as he loves thee : 

Faith and obedience are enough, 

And thou a saint shalt be. 

Fabbr. 



Draw Me to Thee. 

1 No man can come to me, except the Father, which hath 
sent me, draw him." — John vi. 44. 

LORD, weak and impotent I stand, 
As fettered by an unseen hand : 
Break thou the strong and subtle band, 
And draw me close to thee. 

In vain I struggle to be free ; 
I would, but camiot, fly to thee : 
Ope thou the prison-door for me, 
And draw me close to thee. 

But can a sinner hope to be 

Thus sweetly drawn and bound to thee ? 



IIO HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Lord, in thy Word this truth I see : 
Then draw me close to thee. 

Oh ! bring me nearer, nearer still, 
That thine own peace my soul may fill. 
And I may rest in thy sweet will : 
Lord, draw me close to thee. 

Then shall my heart on thee repose, 
And find a balm for all life's woes, 
When thou shalt shield from all my foes, 
And draw me close to thee. 

Here, Lord, I would forever bide, 
And never wander from thy side : 
Beneath thy wings do thou me hide, 
And draw me close to thee. 

M. A. N. 



Jesus, the Ladder of my Fa[th. 

JESUS, the ladder of my faith 
Rests on the jasper-walls of heaven ; 
And through the veiling clouds I catch 
Faint visions of the mystic Seven. 



THE LADDER OF MY FAITH. Ill 

The glory of the rainbowed throne 
Illumes those clouds like lambent flame ; 
As once, on earth, thy love divine 
Burned through the robes of human shame. 

Thou art the same, O gracious Lord ! 
The same dear Christ that thou wert then ; 
And all the praises angels sing- 
Delight thee less than prayers of men. 

We have no tears thou wilt not dry ; 
We have no wounds thou wilt not heal ; 
No sorrows pierce our human hearts 
That thou, dear Saviour, dost not feel. 

Thy pity, like the dew, distils ; 

And thy compassion, like the light, 

Our every morning overfills, 

And crowns with stars our every night. 

Let not the world's rude conflict drown 
The charmed music of thy voice, 
That calls all weary ones to rest, 
And bids all mourning souls rejoice. 

Harriet McEwen Kimball. 



112 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



Prayer against the Power of Sin. 

OH that Thou wouldst — the heavens 
rent — 
In majesty come down, 
Stretch out Thine arm omnipotent, 
And seize me for Thine own ! 

Descend, and let Thy lightning burn 

The stubble of Thy foe ; 
My sins o'erturn, o'erturn, o'erturn, 

And make the mountains flow. 

Thou my impetuous spirit guide, 
And curb my headstrong will : 

Thou only canst drive back the tide, 
And bid the sun stand still. 

What though I cannot break my chain, 

Or e'er throw off my load ? 
The things impossible to men 

Are possible to God. 

Is there a thing too hard for thee, 

Almighty^Lord of all? 
Whose threatening looks dry up the sea, 

And make the mountains fall. 



PR A YER. 



IJ 3 



Who, who shall in thy presence stand, 

And match Omnipotence ; 
Ungrasp the hold of thy right hand, 

Or pluck the sinner thence ? 

Sworn to destroy, let earth assail : 

Nearer to save thou art ; 
Stronger than all the powers of hell, 

And greater than my heart. 

Lo ! to the hills I lift mine eye ; 

Thy promised aid I claim : 
Father of mercies, glorify 

Thy favorite Jesu's name. 

Salvation in that name is found, 
Balm of my grief and care ; 

A medicine for every wound, 
All, all I want is there. 

Jesu ! Redeemer, Saviour, Lord, 
The weary sinner's Friend, 

Come to my help, pronounce the word, 
And bid my troubles end. 

Deliverance to my soul proclaim, 

And life and liberty ; 
Shed forth the virtues of thy name, 

And Jesus prove to me. 



114 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Faith to be healed thou know'st I have ; 

For thou that faith hast given : 
Thou canst, thou wilt, the sinner save, 

And make me meet for heaven. 

Thou canst o'ercome this heart of mine ; 

Thou wilt victorious prove : 
For everlasting strength is thine, 

And everlasting love. 

Thy powerful Spirit shall subdue 

Unconquerable sin, 
Cleanse this foul heart, and make it new, 

And write thy law within. 

Bound down with twice ten thousand ties, 

Yet, let me hear thy call. 
My soul in confidence shall rise, — 

Shall rise, and break through all. 

Speak, and the deaf shall hear thy voice, 

The blind his sight receive, 
The dumb in songs of praise rejoice, 

The heart of stone believe. 

The Ethiop then shall change his skin, 
The dead shall feel thy power. 

The loathsome leper shall be clean. 
And I shall sin no more. 

Charles Wesley. 



TRUST. lit 



Trust. 



I KNOW not if or dark or bright 
Shall be my lot ; 
If that wherein my hopes delight 
Be best or not. 

It may be mine to drag for years 

Toil's heavy chain ; 
Or, day and night, my meat be tears 

On bed of pain. 

Dear faces may surround my hearth 
With smiles and glee ; 

Or I may dwell alone, and mirth 
Be strange to me. 

My bark is wafted on the strand 

By breath divine, 
And on the helm there rests a hand 

Other than mine. 

One, who has known in storms to sail, 

I have on board : 
Above the raving of the gale 

I have my Lord. 



Il6 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

He holds me when the billows smite : 

I shall not fall. 
If sharp, 'tis short ; if long, 'tis light : 

He tempers all. 

Safe to the land ! — safe to the land ! 

The end is this ; 
And then with him go hand in hand 

Far into bliss. 

Dean of Canterbury. 



None but Thee. 

NOTHING fair on earth I see 
But I straightway think on Thee : 
Thou art fairest in my eyes. 
Source in whom all beauty lies. 

When I see the reddening dawn, 
And the golden sun of morn, 
Quickly turns this heart of mine 
To Thy glorious form divine. 

Oft I think upon Thy light 
When the gray morn breaks the night ; 
Think what glories lie in Thee, 
Light of all eternity ! 



NONE BUT THEE. XI y 

When I see the moon arise 
'Mid heaven's thousand golden eyes, 
Then I think, " More glorious far 
Is the Maker of each star ; " 

Or I think in Spring's sweet hours, 
When the fields are gay with flowers, 
As their varied lines I see, 
" What must their Creator be ! " 

When along the brook I wander, 
And beside the fountain ponder, 
Straight my thoughts take wing, and mount 
Up to Thee, the purest Fount. 

Sweetly sings the nightingale ; 
Sweet the flute's soft, plaintive tale : 
Sweeter than their richest tone 
Is the name of Mary's Son. 

Sweetly all the air is stirred 
When the echo's call is heard ; 
But no sounds my heart rejoice 
Like to my Beloved's voice. 

Come, thou fairest Lord, appear ; 
Come, let me behold thee near : 
I would see thee face to face ; 
Thy perfect image I would trace. 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Take away these veils that blind, 
Jesu. all my soul and mind : 
Henceforth, ever let my heart 
See thee truly as thou art. 

An GEL us. 



" Not My Will, but Thine, be doxe." 

OLORD my God ! do thou thy holy will : 
I will lie still ; 
I will not stir, lest I forsake thine arm. 

And break the charm 
Which lulls me. clinging to my Father's breast, 
In perfect rest. 

Wild Fancy, peace ! thou must not me beguile 

With thy false smile : 
1 know thy flatteries and thy cheating ways. 

Be silent. Praise ! 
Blind guide with siren voice, and blinding all 

That hear thy call. 

Come. Self-Devotion high and pure ; 
Thoughtsthat in thankfulness endure. 
Though dearest hopes are faithless found, 
And dearest hearts are bursting round. 



THY WILL BE DONE ' 



II 9 



Come, Resignation, spirit meek, 
And let me kiss thy placid cheek, 
And read in thy pale eye serene 
Their blessing who by faith can wean 
Their hearts from sense, and learn to love 
God only and the joys above. 

They say, who know the life divine, 

And upward gaze with eagle eyne, 

That by each golden crown on high, 

Rich with celestial jewelry, 

Which for our Lord's redeemed is set, 

There hangs a radiant coronet, 

All gemmed with pure and living light, 

Too dazzling for a sinner's sight, 

Prepared for virgin souls, and them 

Who seek the martyr's diadem. 

Nor deem, who to that bliss aspire 

Must win their way through blood and fire : 

The writhings of a wounded heart 

Are fiercer than a foeman's dart. 

Oft in life's stillest shade reclining, 

In desolation unrepining, 

Without a hope on earth to find 

A mirror in an answering mind, 

Meek souls there are, who little dream 

Their daily strife an angel's theme, 



120 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Or that the rod they take so calm 
Shall prove in heaven a martyr's palm. 

And there are souls that seem to dwell 

Above the earth, — so rich a spell 

floats round their steps where'er they move. 

From hopes fulfilled and mutual love. 

Such, if on high their thoughts are set, 

.Nor in the stream the source forget, 

If prompt to quit the bliss they know, 

Following the Lamb where'er he go, 

By purest pleasures unbeguiled 

To idolize or wife or child, — 

Such wedded souls our God shall own 

For faultless virgins round his throne. 

Thus everywhere we find our suffering God, 

And where he trod 
May set our steps. The cross on Calvary, 

Uplifted high, 
Beams on the martyr hosts, — a beacon-light 

In open fight. 

To the still wrestlings of the lonely heart 

He doth impart 
The virtue of his midnight agony, 

When none was nigh, 
Save God and one good angel, to assuage 

The tempest's rage. 



THE ROBE OF HOLINESS. 12 I 

Mortal, if life smile on thee, and thou find 

All to thy mind, 
Think who did once from heaven to hell descent 

Thee to befriend : 
So shalt thou dare forego, at his dear call, 

Thy best, thine all. 

" O Father ! not my will, but thine, be done : " 

So spake the Son. 
Be this our charm, mellowing earth's rudei 
noise 

Of griefs and joys, 

That we may cling forever to thy breast 

In perfect rest. 

John Keble. 



The Robe of Holiness. 

SOMETIMES I upward lift mine eyes 
And, filled with pleasure, see 
The happy hosts that throng the skies, — 
The blood-washed company. 

" How beautiful their robes ! " I say ; 



" Their garments all, how white 
Fair as the sun's ascending ray, 
And clear as noonday light." 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

O Saviour! thou hast made them clean, - 
The garments that they wear ; 

And all who wash in thee their sin 
May in those garments share. 

I, too, may wear that spotless dress ; 

Its beauty I may prove : 
It is the robe of holiness. 

The dress of perfect love. 

Prok. T. C. Upham. 



A Closer Walk with God. 

(Dear Friend, — I wrote this hymn because I could never 
sing Cowper's, of which it is a paraphrase. No "blessedness" 
in the past has ever equalled that which I know in the present 
service of the Lord ; and there has never, at any time, been any 
point in my life in which 1 wished to go back to past experiences ; 
the present always being richer and better, and the future brighter 
in prospect. Neither have I ever felt any " aching void" in 
my heart since Jesus filled it in my childhood. I have never 
seen a day so stormy that I sighed for peaceful hours gone. 
Better in any storm, with the peculiar and most tender love 
which the Lord bestows on his tempest-tost ones, than in a calm. 
Better the night and the waves, and the roaring of the sea, with 
Jesus at hand to say, " It is I, be not afraid," than the hours 
of ordinary life when the intercourse is but ordinary. Blessed 
thought, that human hearts can never outgrow that mighty 
heart ! Ever till then, and thenceforward, Yours, s. g. a.) 



A CLOSER WALK WITH GOD. 123 

OH for a closer walk with God, 
A higher, holier frame, 
A brighter light upon the road 
That leads me to the Lamb ! 

Rich blessedness e'en now I know, 

In converse with the Lord : 
Soul-quickening views are granted me 

Of Jesus and his word. 

Hut there are lengths and breadths of love 

My spirit would attain, 
Deep things of God that I would search, 

Heights that I long to gain. 

And I would have this soul of mine 

Made "glorious within," 
Adorned with grace, meet for my Lord ! 

And sure his smile to win. 

The work is thine, O holy Dove ! 

I gladly welcome thee : 
Come in, blest Spirit of the Lord ! 

Possess both mine and me. 

Thou knowest all ; thou canst do all ; 

Bring captive every thought 
In swift obedience to His will 

Whose blood my peace hath bought. 



124 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Thus henceforth 'tis no longer (. 

But Christ that dwells in me : 
To win me wholly for his own, 

He died upon the tree. 

How close is now my walk with God ! 

How glad my upward way ! 
Brighter and brighter shines the light 

Unto the perfect day. 

S. G. A. 



Self-Consecration. 

IT grieves me, Lord, it grieves me sore, 
That I have lived to thee no more, 
And wasted half my days. 
My inward powers shall burn and flame 
With zeal and passion for thy name : 
I would not speak but for my God, nor move 
but to his praise. 

What are my eyes but aids to see 
The glories of the Deity, 

Inscribed with beams of light 
On flowers and stars ? Lord, I behold 
The shining azure, green and gold ; 
But, when I try to read thy name, a dimness 
veils my sight. 



SELF-CONSECRA TION. 



"5 



Mine ears are raised when Virgil sings 
Sicilian swains or Trojan kings, 

And drink the music in : 
Why should the trumpet's brazen voice 
Or oaten reed awake my joys, 
And yet my heart so stupid lie when sacrec 
hymns begin ? 

Change me, O God ! My flesh shall be 
An instrument of song to thee, 
And thou the notes inspire ; 
My tongue shall keep the heavenly chime, 
My cheerful pulse shall beat the time, 
And sweet variety of sound shall in thy praise 
conspire. 

The dearest nerve about my heart, 

Should it refuse to bear a part 

With my melodious breath, 

I'd tear away the vital chord, 

A bloody victim to my Lord, 

And live without that impious string, or sho\ 

my zeal in death. 

Isaac Watt 



I 2 6 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



Take me, O my Father ! take me. 

TAKE me, O my Father ! take me. 
Take me, save me, through thy Son ; 
That which thou wouldst have me. make me ; 
Let thy will in me be done. 

Long from thee my footsteps straying, 

Thorny proved the way I trod : 
Weary come I now. and praying ; 

Take me to thv love, my God. 



Fruitless years with grief recalling, 
Humbly I confess my sin : 

At thy feet. O Father ! falling. 
To thv household take me in. 



Freely now to thee I proffer 
This relenting heart of mine ; 

Freely life and soul I offer. — 
Gift unworthy love like thine. 

Once the world's Redeemer, dying, 
Bore our sins upon the tree: 

On that sacrifice relying. 
Now I look in hope to thee. 



THE WAY. 

Father, take me ; all forgiving, 
Fold me to thy loving breast : 

In thy love forever living, 
I must be forever blest. 

Ray Palmer. 



I27 



The Way, the Truth, and the Life. 

THOU art the Way! 
All ways are thorny mazes without Thee : 
Where hearts are pierced, and thoughts all aim- 
less stray, 
In Thee the heart stand:; firm, the life moves 
free : 

Thou art the Way ! 

Thou art the Truth ! 
Questions the ages break against in vain 
Confront the spirit in its untried youth ; 
It starves while learning poison from the grain : 

Thou art the Truth ! 

Thou art the Truth ! 
Truth for the mind, grand, glorious, infinite ; 
A heaven still boundless o'er its highest growth ; 
Bread for the heart, its daily need to meet : 

Thou art the Truth ! 



128 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Thou art the Light ! 
Earth beyond earth no faintest ray can give ; 
Heaven's shadeless noontide blinds our mortal 

sight ; 
In Thee we look on God, and love and live : 

Thou art the Light ! 

Thou art the Rock ! 
Doubts none can solve heave wild on every 

side, 
Wave meeting wave of thought in ceaseless 

shock ; 
On Thee the soul rests calm amidst the tide : 
Thou art our Rock ! 

Thou art the Life ! 
All ways without Thee, paths that end in death ; 
All life without Thee with Death's harvest rife ; 
All truths dry bones, disjoined, and void of 
breath : 

Thou art the Life ! 

For Thou art Love ! 
Our Way and End ! the way is rest with Thee ; 
O living Truth ! the truth is life in Thee ; 
O Life essential ! life is bliss with Thee : 

For Thou art Love ! 

Author of " Thi£ Cotta Family." 



IN HIM WE LIVE. 



In Him we live. 



129 



1KN0W thou art not far, 
My God, from me : yon star 
Speaks of thy nearness, and its rays 
Fall on me like thy touch. Oh ! raise 
These eyes of mine 
To see thy face, — even thine, 

My Father and my God ! 

Thou speakest, and I hear : 
What gracious, heavenly cheer 

Is in thy gentle speech, my God ! 

How it lifts off the heavy load 
Which bows my weary head, 
And checks me in my speed, 

My gracious God and Lord ' 

Thou knowest all I am, 
My evil and my shame ; 

And yet thou hat'st me not, 

Nor hast even once forgot 
Thy handiwork divine, 
This helpless soul of mine, 

My ever-loving Lord ! 

Thou wilt be nearer yet ; 
And one day I shall get 
9 



'3© 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

The fuller vision of thy face. 
In all its perfect light and grace, 
When I shall see thee as thou art 
And in thy kingdom bear my part, 

My blessed King and God ! 

HORATIUS BOXAR 



To Yonder Side. 

Luke viii. 22-25. 

BEHIND the hills of Xaphtali 
The sun went slowly down, 
Leaving on mountain, tower, and tree 
A tinge of golden brown. 

The cooling breath of evening woke 

The waves of Galilee. 
Till on the shore the waters broke 

In softest melody. 

" Now launch the bark." the Saviour cried, - 
The chosen Twelve stood by, — 

"And let us cross to yonder side, 
Where the hills are steep and high." 



TO YONDER SIDE. I7t ] 

Quietly o'er the water she creeps, 
While the swelling sail they spread ; 

And the wearied Saviour gently sleeps, 
With a pillow 'neath his head. 

On downy bed the world seeks rest ; 

Sleep flies the guilty eye : 
But He who leans on the Father's breast 

May sleep when storms are nigh. 

But soon the lowering sky grew dark 

O'er Bashan's rocky brow : 
The storm rushed down upon the bark, 

And waves dashed o'er the prow. 

The pale disciples trembling spake, 
While yawned the watery grave, 

" We perish, Master ! Master, wake ! 
Carest thou not to save ? " 

Calmly he rose with sovereign will, 

And hushed the storm to rest : 
"Ye waves," he whispered, "peace ! be still ! n 

They calmed like a pardoned breast. 

So have I seen a fearful storm 

O'er wakened sinner roll, 
Till Jesus' voice and Jesus' form 

Said, " Peace, thou weary soul ! " 



I32 HYMIiS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

And now he bends his gentle eye 

His wondering followers o'er: 
"Why raise this unbelieving cry ? 

I said, To yonder shore." 

When first the Saviour wakened me, 

And showed me why he died, 
He pointed o'er Life's narrow sea, 

And said, " To yonder side. 

" I am the ark where Noah dwelt, 

And heard the deluge roar : 
No soul can perish that has felt 

My rest. — To yonder shore" 

Peaceful and calm the tide of life 

When first I sailed with thee ; 
My sins forgiven, no inward strife, 

My breast a glassy sea. 

But soon the storm of passion raves ; 

My soul is tempest-tost ; 
Corruptions rise like angry waves : 

" Help, Master ! I am lost ! " 

" Peace, peace ! be still, thou raging breast ! 

My fulness is for thee." 
The Saviour speaks, and all is rest 

Like the waves of Galilee. 



THUS WOULD I LIVE. 

And now I feel this holy eye 
Upbraids my heart of pride : 

"Why raise this unbelieving cry? 
I said, To yojider side.'''' 

Robert Murray McCheyne. 



Thus would I live. 

LORD, I desire to live as one 
Who bears a blood-bought name ; 
As one who fears but grieving thee, 
And knows no other shame ; 

As one by whom thy walk below 

Should never be forgot ; 
As one who fain would keep apart 

From all thou lovest not. 

I want to live as one who knows 

Thy fellowship of love ; 
As one whose eyes can pierce beyond 

The pearl-built gates above ; 

As one who daily speaks to thee, 

And hears thy voice divine 
With depths of tenderness declare, 

" Beloved ! thou art mine." 



133 



134 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

1 want to walk as one who knows 
The guilt that lurks within, 

Yet trusts, in humble faith, that blood 
Which cleanses from all sin ; 

To dwell more near my Saviour's face 

Than ever yet before ; 

To lean upon his loving breast, 

And own him Conqueror. 

J. H. 



Union with Christ. 

THEY love their blessed Leader. Not more 
close 

The branches cling unto the parent tree 

Than are his followers bound to Christ. They 
loose, 

Like him, their hold on earthly things. They 
free 

Their hearts from the strong bonds of selfish- 
ness, 

And yield for general good their private weal. 

Where'er is want, despondency, distress, 

They have the' hand to toil, the heart to feel. 

'Tis thus the Saviour taught them. They are 
one 



PANTING FOR DIVINE LOVE. 



135 



With him, and in their souls his image bear, 

Rejoicing in the likeness. As the sun 

Doth spread his radiance through the fields of 

air, 
And kindle in revolving stars his blaze. 
He pours upon their hearts the splendor of his 

ravs - Prof. T. C. Upham. 



Panting for Divine Love. 

OLOVE divine, how sweet thou art ! 
When shall I find my willing heart 
All taken up by thee ? 
I thirst and faint and die to prove 
The greatness of redeeming love, — 
The love of Christ to me. 

Stronger his love than death or hell ; 
Its riches are unsearchable : 

The first-born sons of light 
Desire in vain its depth to see ; 
They cannot reach the mystery, 

The length and breadth and height. 

God only knows the love of God : 

Oh that it now were shed abroad 

In this poor stony heart ! 



I36 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

For love I sigh, for love I pine : 
This only portion, Lord, be mine ; 
Be mine this better part. 

Oh that I could forever sit 
With Mary at the Master's feet ! 

Be this my happy choice ; 
My only care, delight, and bliss, 
My joy, my heaven on earth, be this, — 

To hear the Bridegroom's voice. 

Oh that, with humbled Peter, I 
Could weep, believe, and thrice reply, 

My faithfulness to prove ! 
Thou know'st (for all to thee is known), 
Thou know'st, O Lord ! and thou alone, 

Thou know'st that thee I love. 

Oh that I could, with favored John, 
Recline my weary head upon 

The dear Redeemer's breast ! 
From care and sin and sorrow free, 
Give me, O Lord ! to find in thee 

My everlasting rest. 

Thy only love do I require ; 
Nothing in earth beneath desire, 
Nothing in heaven above : 



HUMBLE SERVICE. 



137 



Let earth and heaven and all things go ; 
Give me thy only love to know ; 
Give me thy only love. 

Charles Wesley. 



Humble Service. 

IT is an easy thing to say, 
" Thou knovvest that I love thee, Lord ; " 
And easy in the bitter fray 
For his defence to draw the sword. 

But when at his dear hands we seek 

Some lofty trust for him to keep, 

To our ambition, vain and weak, 

How strange his bidding, " Feed my sheep" ! 

" Too mean a task for love," we cry ; 
Remembering not, if in our pride 
We pass his humbler service by, 
Our vows are by our deeds denied. 

O Father ! help us to resign 

Our hearts, our strength, our wills, to thee : 

Then even lowliest work of thine 

Most noble, blest, and sweet will be. 

Harriet McEwen Kimball. 



i38 hymns of the higher life. 

Forever with the Lord. 

FOREVER with the Lord! 
Amen : so let it be ! 
Life from the dead is in that word, 
And immortality. 

Here in the body pent, 
Absent from him, I roam, 
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent 
A day's march nearer home. 

My Father's house on high, 
Home of my soul, how near 
At times, to Faith's far-seeing eye. 
Thy golden gates appear ! 

Ah ! then my spirit faints 
To reach the land I love, — 
The bright inheritance of saints, 
Jerusalem above. 

Yet clouds will intervene, 
And all my prospect flies : 
Like Noah's dove, I flit between 
Rough seas and stormy skies. 



SIMPLE TRUST. 



139 



Anon the clouds depart, 
The winds and waters cease, 
While sweetly o'er my gladdened heart 
Expands the bow of peace. 

Beneath its glowing arch, 
Along its hallowed ground, 
I see cherubic armies march, 
A camp of fire around. 

I hear at morn and even, 
At noon and midnightMiour, 
The choral harmonies of heaven 
Earth's Babel tongues o'erpower : 

Then, then I feel that He, 
Remembered or forgot, 
The Lord, is never far from me, 
Though I perceive him not. 

James Montgomery. 



Simple Trust. 

STILL, still, without ceasing, 
I feel it increasing, 
This fervor of holy desire ; 



I40 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

And often exclaim, 
" Let me die in the flame 
Of a love that can never expire ! " 

Had I words to explain 

What she must sustain 
Who dies to the world and its ways. — 

How joy and affright, 

Distress and delight, 
Alternately checker her days, — 

Thou sweetly severe ! 

I would make Thee appear 
In all Thou art pleased to award, 

Not more in the sweet 

Than the bitter I meet, 
My tender and merciful Lord. 

This faith in the dark, 

Pursuing its mark 
Through many sharp trials of love, 

Is the sorrowful waste 

That is to passed 
On the way to the Canaan above. 

Madams Guyon. 



the hidden life. 141 

The Hidden Life. 

TO tell the Saviour all my wants, 
How pleasing is the task ! 
Nor less to praise him when he grants 
Beyond what I can ask. 

My laboring spirit vainly seeks 

To tell but half the joy ; 
With how much tenderness he speaks, 

And helps me to reply. 

Nor were it wise, nor should I choose, 

Such secrets to declare : 
Like precious wines, their tastes they lose, 

Exposed to open air. 

But this with boldness I proclaim, 
Nor care if thousands hear, — 

Sweet is the ointment of his name ; 
Nor life is half so dear. 

And can you frown, my former friends, 
Who knew what once I was, 

And blame the song that thus commends 
The Man who bore the cross ? 



142 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Trust me, I draw the likeness true. 

And not as fancy paints : 
Such honor may he give to you ! 

For such have all his saints. 

William Ccwpbr. 



The Hour of Prayer. 

MY God ! is any hour so sweet, 
From blush of morn to evening star, 
As that which calls me to thy feet, — 
The hour of prayer ? 

Blest be the tranquil hour of morn, 
And blest that hour of solemn eve, 
When, on the wings of prayer upborne, 
The world I leave. 

For then a day-spring shines on me, 
Brighter than morn's ethereal glow ; 
And richer dews descend from thee 
Than earth can know. 

Then is my strength by thee renewed ; 
Then are my sins by thee forgiven ; 
Then dost thou cheer my solitude 
With hopes of heaven. 



THE CANCELLED BOND. 1 43 

Words cannot tell what blest relief 
Kere for my every want I find ; 
What strength for warfare, balm for grief ; 
What peace of mind. 

Hushed is each doubt ; gone every fear ; 
My spirit seems in heaven to stay ; 
And e'en the penitential tear 
Is wiped away. 

Oh ! till I reach yon peaceful shore, 
No privilege so dear shall be 
As thus my inmost soul to pour 
In prayer to thee. 

Miss Charlotte Elliott. 



The Cancelled Bond. 



E 



E gave me back the bond, — 
It was a heavy debt ; 
And, as He gave, He smiled, and said, 
" Thou wilt not Me forget" 

He gave me back the bond, — 
The seal was torn away ; 
And, as He gave, He smiled, and said, 
" Think thou of Me alway" 



144 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

That bond I still will keep. 
Although it cancelled be : 
It tells me what I owe to Him 
Who paid the debt for me. 

I look on it, and smile ; 
I look again, and weep : 
This record of His love to me 
Forever will I keep. 

A bond it is no more ; 
But it shall ever tell 
That all I owed was fully paid 
By my Emmanuel. 



Hear my Cry. 

O STRONG to save and bless, 
My Rock and Righteousness ! 
Draw near to me : 
Blessing and joy and might, 
Wisdom and love and light. 
Are all with thee. 

My.Refuge and my Rest ! 
As child on mother's breast. 
I lean on thee. 



HEAR MY CRY. 

From faintness and from fear, 
When foes and ill are near, 
Deliver me. 

Turn not away thy face ; 
Withhold not needed grace ; 

My fortress be. 
Perils are round and round ; 
Iniquities abound : 

See, Saviour ! see ! 

Come, God and Saviour, come ! 
I can no more be dumb ; 

Appeal I must 
To thee, the gracious One, 
Else is my hope all gone, 

I sink in dust ! 

Oh, answer me, my God ! 
Thy love is deep and broad ; 

Thy grace is true : 
Thousands this grace have shared ; 
Oh ! let me now be heard ; 

Oh ! love me too. 

Descend, thou mighty Love, — 
Descend from heaven above ; 
Fill thou this soul ; 



145 



146 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Heal every bruised part, 
Bind up this broken heart, 
And make me whole. 

'Tis knowing thee that heals ; 
'Tis seeing thee that seals 

Comfort and peace. 
Show me thy cross and blood, 
My Saviour and my God, 

Then troubles cease. 

HORATIUS BONAR. 



Glory to God alone. 

O LOVED ! but not enough, though dearer 
far 
Than self and its most loved enjoyments are : 
None duly loves thee, but who, nobly free 
From sensual objects, finds his all in thee. 

Glory of God ! thou stranger here below, 
Whom man nor knows, nor feels a wish to 

know : " 
Our faith and reason are both shocked to find 
Man in the post of honor, thee behind. 



GLORY TO GOD ALONE. 



147 



Reason exclaims, " Let every creature fall, 
Ashamed, abased, before the Lord of all ! " 
And Faith, o'erwhelmed with such a dazzling 

blaze, 
Feebly describes the beauty she surveys. 

Yet man, dim-sighted man, and rash as blind, 
Deaf to the dictates of his better mind, 
In frantic competition dares the skies, 
And claims precedence of the Only- Wise. 

Oh lost in vanity till once self-known ! 
Nothing is great or good but God alone : 
When thou shalt stand before his awful face, 
Then, at the last, thy pride shall know its place. 

Glorious Almighty, first, and without end ! 

When wilt thou melt the mountains, and de- 
scend ? 

When wilt thou shoot abroad thy conquering 
rays, 

And teach these atoms, thou hast made, thy 
praise ? 

Thy glory is the sweetest heaven I feel ; 
And, if I seek it with too fierce a zeal. 
Thy love, triumphant o'er a selfish will, 
Taught me the passion, and inspires it still. 



148 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

My reason, all my faculties, unite 
To make thy glory my supreme delight : 
Forbid it. Fountain of my brightest days, 
That I should rob thee, and usurp thy praise ! 

My soul, rest happy in thy low estate. 
Nor hope nor wish to be esteemed or great : 
To take the impression of a will divine — 
Be that thy glory, and those riches thine. 

Confess him righteous in his just decrees ; 
Love what he loves, and let his pleasure please; 
Die daily ; from the touch of sin recede ; 
Then thou hast crowned him, and he reigns 
indeed. 

Madame Guvon. 



Rejoicing ix Hope. 

I KNOW that my Redeemer lives, 
And ever prays for me : 
A token of his love he gives, 
A pledge of liberty. 

] find him lifting up my head ; 

He brings salvation near ; 
His presence makes me free indeed, 

And he will soon appear. 



REJOICING IN HOPE. 149 

He wills that I should holy be : 
What can withstand his will ? 

The counsel of his grace in me 
He surely shall fulfil. 

Jesus, I hang upon thy word : 

I steadfastly believe 
Thou wilt return and claim me, Lord, 

And to thyself receive. 

Joyful in hope, my spirit soars 

To meet thee from above ; 
Thy goodness thankfully adores ; 

And sure I taste thy love. 

Thy love I soon expect to find 
In all its depth and height ; 

To comprehend the Eternal Mind, 
And grasp the Infinite. 

When Christ doth in my heart appear, 
And Love erects its throne, 

I then enjoy salvation here, 

And heaven on earth begun. 

When God is mine, and I am his, 

Of Paradise possest, 
I taste unutterable bliss 

And everlasting rest. 



IjO HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE 

The bliss of those that fully dwell, 

Fully in thee believe, 
Tis more than angel-tongues can tell 

Or angel-minds conceive. 

Thou only know'st who didst obtain, 
And die to make it known : 

The great salvation now explain, 
And perfect us in one. 

May I. may all who humbly wait, 
The glorious joy receive, — 

Joy above all conception great, 
Worthy of God to give ! 

Lord, I believe, and rest secure 

In confidence divine : 
Thy promise stands forever sure, 

And all thou art is mine. 

Charles Wesley. 



The Voyage. 

,r T\VAS lovely all, — this glorious earth, 
-A- With sunny garniture of bloom : 

I walked in light and beauty forth, 
And well-nigh had forgot the tomb. 



THE VOYAGE. 



151 



Well-nigh, alas ! There was a breath 

Of poison on the summer air ; 
And life and joy, disease and death, 

Seemed often, strangely, blending there, 

And whispered tones of coming ill : 
Ah me ! I could not choose but hear 

That life was but a gliding rill, 

And death's dark waves were rolling near. 

Which way to fly ? That murmuring stream 
Was music to my spell-bound ears : 

I strove as in a midnight dream, 

Pleasant, but still disturbed with fears. 

I strove and conquered, broke the spell, 
And asked again which way to fly ; 

Turned from the path that leads to hell, 
But saw no other pathway nigh. 

Far off upon the distant sea 

There lay a bark of wondrous size : 

With canvas spread, she seemed to be 
A cloud upon the summer-skies. 

A waving flag, of crimson fold, 
Circled the lofty topmast round : 

Upon it blazed, inwrought with gold, 
These cheering words, " For Zion bound." 



152 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



For Zion bound, that bark had borne 
Its thousands to a happier shore ; 

And though 'twas old, and sadly worn, 
I knew 'twould bear its thousands more. 

I stretched my arms : they saw me there, 
Half deluged by the driving spray ; 

They lowered a boat with anxious care, 
And made the shore whereon I lay. 

Just then a little shallop passed, 

With trim white sails and pennons gay : 

Mount Zion, too, was on her mast, 

As o'er the waves she winged her way. 

" Take me ! " I cried with irantic wail, 
As down upon the breeze she bore : 

They turned her helm, and shifted sail, 
And ran her close along the shore. 

'■ On board ! " they cried : u we run a race 
For Zion's port ; and, close beside, 

A thousand boats are on the chase, 
While we are losing wind and tide." 

With eager haste I seized a hand 

That quickly drew me from the shore : 

I only thought of Zion's land ; 
Of life, — of life forevermore. 



THE VOYAGE. 



iS3 



Ah ! beautiful it was to fly 

So like an eagle in the air ; 
To pass the shore so quickly by, 

And dream that we were almost there ; 

To dream the passage would be short : 
Alas ! it seemed not thus to me. 

We touched along from port to port, 
But seldom ventured out to sea. 

We would not run our race in vain, 

But snatched the good each moment brings. 

And made our godliness a gain 
By bartering it for earthly things. 

Our colors floated on the breeze 
With Zion's flag of crimson glow ; 

But colors too, diverse from these, 
Were floating o'er our decks below. 

We sang the songs of Zion's hill ; 

On holy-days our raptures told ; 
But often anchored where the chill 

And sluggish streams of Babel rolled. 

And there our earthly love prevailed, 
Till hushed at last was Zion's song ; 

And e'en the port for which we sailed 
No longer seemed to urge us on. 



'54 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



All things to us were lawful then, 
All things expedient and divine, — 

To buy and sell the souls of men, 
And lay them on our Moloch shrine ; 

To tamper thus with earthly dross, 
To wear its tinsel bright and gay, 

Till every vestige of the cross 
Had faded from the soul away. 

One night — alas ! can I forget 
The horrors of that awful night. 

When billows washed our reeling deck, 
And storm-winds blew with fearful might ? 

" Unlade the ship ! " The trumpet-tone 
Above the bellowing tempest roared : 

" Bring forth your treasures, every one, 
And quickly cast them overboard." 

We brought our merchandise of souls, 
And cast it on the foaming wave : 

Back on itself the billow rolls, 
And opens wide a watery grave. 

We brought our treasures with a sigh, 
Our earthly treasures, one by one : 

They turned to bubbles ; floated by, 
Upon the angry surges borne. 



THE VOYAGE. jq- 

One moment more, — a moment brief, — 
And, clinging to that sea-washed deck, 

The storm-wind bore us to a reef, 

Where all was cast, a shapeless wreck. 

All, all was gone ! each beam and spar ! 

'Twas then we raised our failing eyes, 
And saw, amid the clouds afar, 

A ray of starlight in the skies. 

And just beneath this cheering ray, 
Far down upon the troubled sea, 

We saw that ship that in the bay 
So old and worn appeared to be. 

On, on her course, with sails unfurled, 
She like a spirit seemed to glide, 

While mountain- waves were o'er her hurled, 
And breakers roared on either side. 

" Save us ! we perish ! " — loud the cry 
That rose above the tempest's wail ; 

While through the mist we strained our eye 
To watch that swiftly-gliding sail. 

" Fear not ; 'tis I ! " The ocean spray 
A moment spread its misty pall ; 

The next upon the deck we lay, 

Saved, saved at last, but stripped of all. 



[ 5° 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



The storm is past, and sunlight steals 
Along the waters bright and free, 

And to the eye of faith reveals 
The land that lies beyond the sea. 

We pause no more to fling our gold 
For pebbles on the nearest strand, 

But keep our wealth, of price untold, 
And lay it up for Canaan's land. 

And should the storms again o'erwhelm 
Our bark upon Life's changing sea, 

If Jesus holds our vessel's helm, 
The storm and calm alike shall be. 

High on the raging billows borne, 
Or sweetly wafted o'er the deep, 

Alike to us the calm or storm, 

If Israel's guard our watch shall keep. 

And when the ransomed of the Lord 

With singing unto Zion come, 
And every harp, from every chord, 

Shall shout the pilgrim's welcome home ; 

When, far beyond the billow's roar, 

The hidden rock, the treacherous sand, 

We furl our sails, and hail the shore, 
The verdant shore, of Zion's land, — 



A HEAVENLY BREEZE. 

Oh ! then we'll sing of dangers past, 
Of toils that made our bliss complete, 

That brought our crowns and palms at last 
As trophies at the Saviour's feet. 

Mrs. Mary Maxwell. 



A Heavenly Breeze. 

IT comes, it comes ! I know not why : 
The wings of love divine surround me 
And God is stooping from on high 
To shed the air of heaven around me. 

It brings a calm, a Christ-like peace, 
'Mid inward music sweetly flowing ; 

It whispers, " Free and sovereign grace 
This heavenly breeze is now bestowing." 

I feel it, aye, most mild and sweet, 

In fragrant waves now gliding o'er me : 

It circles round my heart's retreat, 
And fans away the mists before me. 

It is not fancy that deludes ; 

'Tis no impulsive flight of feeling; 
'Tis no illusion that intrudes ; 

But 'tis the Holy Spirit's sealing ! 



*57 



<58 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



Come, Holy Spirit ! waft along 

A constant breeze to breathe around me ; 
And let me hear the seraphs' song 

While heavenly atmospheres surround me. 

Still let me have this lamb-like frame, 

And bask amid thy beams bright shining, 

And feel thy love's encircling flame, 
My heart with thine in union twining. 

So shall I dwell in heaven below ; 

On me thy full salvation pouring : 
On " eagle's wings " to God I'll go, 

And fall before his throne adoring. 



The Gospel in the Lord's Supper. 

NO gospel like this feast 
Spread for thy Church by Thee : 
Nor prophet nor evangelist 
Preach the glad news so free. 

Picture and parable ! 

All truth and love divine, 
In one bright point made visible, 

Hence on the heart they shine : 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. j^g 

All our redemption cost ; 

All our redemption won ; 
All it has won for us, the lost ; 

All it cost Thee, the Son. 

Thine was the bitter price, 

Ours is the free gift given ; 
Thine was the blood of sacrifice, 

Ours is the wine of heaven. 

For thee the burning thirst, 
The shame, the mortal strife, 

The broken heart, the side transpierced ; 
To us the Bread of Life. 

To thee our curse and doom 

Wrapped round thee with our sin, 

The horror of that mid-day gloom, 
The deeper, night within ; 

To us thy home in light, 

Thy " Come, ye blessed, come ! " 
Thy bridal raiment pure and white, 

Thy Father's welcome home. 

Here we would rest midway, 

As on a sacred height, 
That darkest and that brightest day 

Meeting before our sight ; 



r6o HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

From that dark depth of woes 

Thy love for us hath trod, 
Up to the heights of blest repose 

Thy love prepares with God ; 

Till, from self's chains released, 

One sight alone we see ; 
Still at the cross, as at the feast, 

Behold thee, — only thee. 

Author of "The Cotta Family." 



Love to Christ, Present or Absent. 

OF all the joys we mortals know, 
Jesus, thy love exceeds the rest ; 
Love, the best blessing here below, 
And nearest image of the blest. 

Sweet are my thoughts, and soft my cares, 
When the celestial flame I feel : 
In all my hopes and all my fears 
There's something kind and pleasing still. 

While I am held in his embrace, 
There's not a thought attempts to rove : 
Each smile he wears upon his face 
Fixes and charms and fires my love. 



LOVE TO CHRIST. 161 

He speaks, and straight immortal joys 
Run through my ears, and reach my heart : 
My soul all melts at that dear voice, 
And pleasure shoots through every part. 

If he withdraw a moment's space, 
He leaves a sacred pledge behind : 
Here in this breast his image stays, 
The grief and comfort of my mind. 

While of his absence I complain, 
And long and weep as lovers do, 
There's a strange pleasure in the pain ; 
And tears have their own sweetness too. 

When round his courts by day I rove, 
Or ask the watchman of the night 
For some kind tidings of my love, 
His very name creates delight. 

Jesus, my God : yet rather come ; 
Mine eyes would dwell upon thy face : 
'Tis best to see my Lord at home, 
And feel the presence of his grace. 

Isaac Wat rs. 



162 hymns of the higher life. 

The Alpine Sheep. 

AFTER our child's untroubled breath 
Up to the Father took its way, 
And on our home the shade of death, 
Like a long, misty twilight, lay, 

And friends came round with us to weep 
Her little spirit's swift remove, 
This story of the Alpine sheep 
Was told to us by one we love : — 

"They, in the valley's sheltering care, 
Soon crop the meadow's tender prime , 
And, when the sod grows brown and bare, 
The shepherd strives to make them climb 

" To airy shelves of pastures green 
That hang along the mountain's side, 
Where grass and flowers together lean, 
And down through mist the sunbeams slide. 

kk But nought can tempt the timid things 
That steep and rugged path to try, 
Though sweet the shepherd calls and sings. 
And seared below the pastures lie, 

" Till in his arms their lambs he takes, 
Along the dizzy verge to go ; 
Then, heedless of the lifts and breaks, 
Thev follow on o'er rocks and snow : 



RENOUNCING THE WORLD. 163 

" And in those pastures lifted fair, 
More dewy soft than lowland mead, 
The shepherd drops his tender care, 
And sheep and lambs together feed." 

This parable, by Nature breathed, 
Blew on me as the south wind free 
O'er frozen brooks that float unsheathed 
From icy thraldom to the sea. 

A blissful vision through the night 
Would all my happy senses sway, — 
Of the Good Shepherd on the height, 
Or climbing up the stony way, 

Holding our little lamb asleep ; 
And like the burden of the sea 
Sounded that voice along the deep, 
Saying, "Arise, and follow me." 

Mrs. Maria Loweli 



Renouncing the World. 

COME, my fond, fluttering heart ; 
Come, struggle to be free : 
Thou and the world must part, 
However hard it be. 



164 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

My trembling spirit owns it just, 
But cleaves yet closer to the dust. 

Ye tempting sweets, forbear ; 

Ye dearest idols, fall : 
My love ye must not share ; 
Jesus shall have it all. 
'Tis bitter pain, 'tis cruel smart ; 
But, ah ! thou must consent, my heart. 

Ye fair, enchanting throng, 

Ye golden dreams, farewell ! 
Earth has prevailed too long, 
And now I break the spell : 
Ye cherished joys of former years — 
Jesus, forgive these parting tears ! 

But must I part with all ? 

My heart still fondly pleads : 
Yes, Dagon's self must fall ; 
It beats, it throbs, it bleeds. 
Is there no balm in Gilead found 
To soothe and heal the smarting wound? 

Oh. yes ! there is a balm, 

A kind Physician, there, 
My fevered mind to calm, 

To bid me not despair : 



''SURELY I COME QUICKLY." 165 

Aid me, dear Saviour, set me free, 
And I will all resign to thee. 

Oh, may I feel thy worth, 

And let no idol dare, 
No vanity of earth, 

With thee, my Lord, compare ! 
Now bid all worldly joys depart, 
And reign supremely in my heart. 

J. Taylor. 



"Surely I come Quickly." 

I SOJOURN in a vale of tears : 
Alas ! how can I sing ? 
My harp doth on the willows hang, 
Distuned in every string. 

My music is a captive's chains ; 

Harsh sounds my ears do fill : 
How shall I sing sweet Zion's song 

On this side Zion's hill ? 

Yet, lo ! I hear a joyful sound, — 

" Surely I quickly come : " 
Each word much sweetness doth distil, 

Like a full honeycomb. 



[66 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

And dost thou come, my dearest Lord ? 

And dost thou surely come ? 
And dost thou surely quickly come ? 

Methinks I am at home ! 

My Jesus is gone up to heaven 

To get a place for me ; 
For "tis his will, that where he is, 

There should his servants be. 

Canaan I view from Pisgab's top. 
Of Canaan's grapes I taste : 

My Lord, who sends unto me here, 
Will send for vie at last. 

I have a God that changeth not : 
Why should I be perplext ? 

My God, that owns me in this world, 
Will own me in the next. 

Go fearless then, my soul, with God 

Into another room : 
Thou who hast walked with him here, 

Go, see thy God at home. 

My dearest friends they dwell above ; 

Them will I go to see : 
And all my friends in Christ below 

Will soon come after me. 



JESUS. 167 

Fear not the trump's earth-rending sound ; 

Dread not the day of doom : 

For he that is to be the Judge 

Thy Saviour is become. 

John Mason. 



Jesus. 

JESUS, I love thy charming name ; 
'Tis music to mine ear : 
Fain would I sound it out so loud, 
That earth and heaven should hear. 

Yes, thou art precious to my soul ; 

My transport and my trust : 
Jewels to thee are gaudy toys, 

And gold is sordid dust. 

All my capacious powers can wish 

In thee doth richly meet ; 
Nor to mine eyes is light so dear, 

Nor friendship half so sweet. 

Thy grace still dwells upon my heart, 
And sheds its fragrance there ; 

The noblest balm of all its wounds, 
The cordial of its care. 



1 68 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

I'll speak the honors of thy name 
With my last laboring breath ; 

Then, speechless, clasp thee in mine arms, 
The antidote of death. 

Philip Doddridge. 



The Rest from Sin. 

LORD, I believe a rest remains 
To all thy people known ; 
A rest where pure enjoyment reigns, 
And thou art loved alone ; 

A rest where all our soul's desire 

Is fixed on things above ; 
Where doubt and pain and fear expire, 

Cast out by perfect love ; 

A rest of lasting joy and peace, 

Where all is calm within ; 
'Tis there from our own works we cease. 

From pride and self and sin. 

Our spirit right, our heart is clean, 

Our nature is renewed : 
We cannot — no, we cannot — sin: 

For we are born of God. 



THE REST FROM SIN. 169 

From every evil motive freed, 
(The Son hath made us free,) 

On all the powers of hell we tread. 
In glorious liberty. 

Redeemed, we walk on holy ground ; 

In Christ we cannot err : 
No lion in that way is found ; 

No ravenous beast is there. 

Safe in the way of life, above 
Death, earth, and hell we rise : 

We find, when perfected in love, 
Our long-sought paradise. 

Within that Eden we retire ; 

We rest in Jesu's name : 
It guards us as a wall of fire, 

And as a sword of flame. 

Oh that I now the rest might know, 

Believe, and enter in ! 
Now, Saviour, now, the power bestow, 

And let me cease from sin. 

Remove this hardness from my heart, 

This unbelief remove ; 
To me the rest of faith impart, 

The sabbath of thy love. 



170 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

I groan from sin to be set free, 

From self to be released : 
Oh ! take me, take me, into thee, 

Mine everlasting Rest. 

I would be thine, — thou know'st I would, - 
And have thee all mine own : 

Thee, O mine all-sufficient Good ! 
I want, and thee alone. 

Thy name to me, thy nature, grant ; 

This, only this, be given : 
Nothing besides my God I want, — 

Nothing in earth or heaven. 

Come, O my Saviour ! come away ; 

Into my soul descend : 
No longer from thy creature stay, 

My Author and my End. 

The bliss thou hast for me prepared 

No longer be delayed : 
Come, my exceeding great Reward. 

For whom I first was made. 

Come, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 

And seal me thine abode : 
Let all I am in thee be lost ; 

Let all be lost in God ! 

Charles Wesley. 



ge thsema ne. i 7 i 

Gethsemane. 

JESUS, while he dwelt below, 
As divine historians say, 
To a place would often go ; 
Near to Kedron's brook it lay : 
In this place he loved to be, 
And 'twas named Gethsemane. 

'Twas a garden, as we read, 

At the foot of Olivet, 

Low, and proper to be made 

The Redeemer's lone retreat : 

When from noise he would be free, 

Then he sought Gethsemane. 

Thither, by their Master brought, 
His disciples likewise came ; 
There the heavenly truths he taught 
Often set their hearts on flame : 
Therefore they, as well as he, 
Visited Gethsemane. 

Oft conversing here they sat, 
Or might join with Christ in prayer : 
Oh ! what blest devotion that, 
When the Lord himself is there ! 
All things thus did there agree 
To endear Gethsemane. 



I72 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Full of love to man's lost race, 
On the conflict much he thought : 
This he knew the destined place, 
And he loved the sacred spot ; 
Therefore Jesus chose to be 
Often in Gethsemane. 

Came at length the dreadful night : 
Vengeance, with its iron rod, 
Stood, and with collected might 
Bruised the harmless Lamb of God ! 
See, my soul ! thy Saviour see, 
Prostrate in Gethsemane ! 

View him in that olive-press, 

Wrung with anguish, whelmed with blood ; 

Hear him pray in his distress, 

With strong cries and tears, to God; 

Then reflect what sin must be, 

Gazing on Gethsemane. 

Gloomy garden, on thy beds, 
Washed by Kedron's water-pool, 
Grow most rank and bitter weeds : 
Think on these, my soul, my soul ! 
Wouldst^hou Sin's dominion flee, 
Call to mind Gethsemane. 



GETHSEMANE. 



173 



Eden, from each flowery bed, 

Did for man short sweetness breathe ; 

Soon, by Satan's counsel led, 

Man wrought sin, and sin wrought death : 

But of life the healing tree 

Grows in rich Gethsemane. 

Hither, Lord, thou didst resort 
Ofttimes with thy little train ; 
Here wouldst keep thy private court : 
Oh ! confer that grace again ; 
Lord, resort with worthless me 
Ofttimes to Gethsemane. 

True, I can't deserve to share 
In a favor so divine ; 
But, since sin first fixed thee there. 
None have greater sins than mine ; 
And to this, my woful plea, 
Witness thou, Gethsemane ! — 

Sins against a holy God, 
Sins against his righteous laws. 
Sins against his love, his blood, 
Sins against his name and cause, — 
Sins immense as is the sea : 
Hide me, O Gethsemane ! 



'74 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Saviour ! all the stone remove 
From my flinty, frozen heart ; 
Thaw it with the beams of love, 
Pierce it with thy mercy's dart ; 
Wound the heart that wounded thee ; 
Break it in Gethsemane. 

Joseph Hart. 



A Meditation in Sickness. 

WHEN languor and disease invade 
This trembling house of clay, 
'Tis sweet to look beyond our cage, 
And long to fly away ; 

Sweet to look inward, and attend 

The whispers of His love ; 
Sweet to look upward to the place 

Where Jesus pleads above ; 

Sweet to look back, and see my name 
In Life's fair book set down ; 

Sweet to look forward, and behold 
Eternal joys my own ; 

Sweet to reflect how grace divine 

My sins on Jesus laid ; 
Sweet to remember that his blood 

My debt of sufferings paid ; 



A MEDITA TION IN SICKNESS. 

Sweet on his righteousness to stand, 
Which saves from second death ; 

Sweet to experience, day by day, 
His Spirit's quickening breath ; 

Sweet on his faithfulness to rest, 
Whose love can never end ; 

Sweet on his covenant of grace 
For all things to depend ; 

Sweet, in the confidence of faith, 
To trust his firm decrees ; 

Sweet to lie passive in his hand, 
And know no will but his ; 

Sweet to rejoice in lively hope, 

That, when my change shall come, 

Angels will hover round my bed, 
And waft my spirit home. 

Then shall my disimprisoned soul 

Behold him, and adore ; 
Be with his likeness satisfied, 

And grieve and sin no more : 

Shall see him wear that very flesh 
On which my guilt was lain ; 

His love intense, his merit fresh, 
As though but newly slain. 



175 



176 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Soon, too, my slumbering dust shall hear 
The trumpet's quickening sound, 

And, by my Saviour's power rebuilt, 
At his right hand be found. 

These eyes shall see him in that day. — 

The God that died for me ; 
And all my rising bones shall say, 

" Lord, who is like to thee ? " 

If such the views which grace unfolds, 

Weak as it is below, 
What raptures must the Church above 

In Jesus' presence know ! 

If such the sweetness of the stream, 

What must the fountain be, 
Where saints and angels draw their bliss 

Immediately from thee ! 

Oh, may the unction of these truths 

Forever with me stay, 
Till, from her sinful cage dismissed, 

My spirit flies away ! 

Augustus M. Toplady. 



'COME AND SEE:' 



177 



" Come and See." 

MASTER, where abidest thou ? 
Lamb of God, 'tis thee we seek : 
For the wants which press us now 

Other aid is all too weak. 
Canst thou take our sins away ? 
May we find repose in thee ? 
From the gracious lips to-day, 

As of old, breathes, " Come and see." 

Master, where abidest thou ? 

We would leave the past behind ; 
We would scale the mountain's brow, 

Learning more thy heavenly mind. 
Still a look is all our lore, — 

The transforming look to thee : 
From the Living Truth once more 

Breathes the answer, " Come and see." 

Master, where abidest thou ? 

How shall we thine image best 
Bear in light upon our brow, 

Stamp in love upon our breast ? 
Still a look is all our might : 

Looking draws the heart to thee ; 
Sends us from the absorbing sight 

With the message, "Come and see." 



i HYMXS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Master, where abidest thou ? 

All the springs of life are low ; 
Sin and grief our spirits bow ; 

And we wait thy call to go. 
From the depths of happy rest 

Where the just abide with thee, 
From the Voice which makes them blest, 

Comes the summons, i; Come and see." 

Christian, tell it to thy brother, 

From life's dawning to its end, — 
Every hand may clasp another, 

And the loneliest bring a friend, 
Till the veil is drawn aside, 

And, from where her home shall be, 
Bursts upon the enfranchised Bride 

The triumphant " Come and see ! ? ' 

Author of "The Cotta Family." 



The Inner Calm. 

CALM me. my God, and keep me calm, 
While these hot breezes blow ; 
Be like the night-dew's cooling balm 
Upon earth's fevered brow. 



THE INNER CALM. 



179 



Calm me, my God, and keep me calm, 

Soft resting on thy breast ; 
Soothe me with holy hymn and psalm, 

And bid my spirit rest. 

Calm me, my God, and keep me calm : 

Let thine outstretched wing- 
Be like the shade of Elim's palm 

Beside her desert spring. 

Yes, keep me calm, though loud and rude 
The sounds my ear that greet, — 

Calm in the closet's solitude ; 
Calm in the bustling street ; 

Calm in the hour of buoyant health ; 

Calm in my hour of pain ; 
Calm in my poverty or wealth ; 

Calm in my loss or gain ; 

Calm in the sufferance of wrong, 

Like Him who bore my shame ; 
Calm 'mid the threatening, taunting throng 

Who hate thy holy name ; 

Calm when the great world's news with power 

My listening spirit stir, — 
Let not the tidings of the hour 

E'er find too fond an ear ; 



180 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Calm as the ray of sun or star 
. Which storms assail in vain, 
Moving unruffled through earth's war, 
The eternal calm to gain. 

HORATIUS BONAR. 



The Fellowship of Saints. 

HOW blest the sacred tie that binds, 
In union sweet, according minds ! 
How swift the heavenly course they run 
Whose hearts, whose faith, whose hopes, are 



To each the soul of each how dear ! 
What jealous love ! what holy fear ! 
How r doth the generous flame within 
Refine from earth, and cleanse from sin ! 

Their streaming tears together flow 
For human guilt and mortal woe ; 
Their ardent prayers together rise 
Like mingling flames in sacrifice. 

Together both they seek the place 
Where God- reveals his awful face : 
How high, how strong, their raptures swell, 
There's none but kindred souls can tell. 



THE LORD'S DAY. \ 

Nor shall the glowing flame expire 
When Nature droops her sickening fire ; 
Then shall they meet in realms above, — 
A heaven of joy, a heaven of love. 

Anna L^etitia Barbauld. 



The Lord's Day. 

OTIME of tranquil joy and holy feeling, 
When over earth God's Spirit from abov" 
Spreads out his wings of love ; 
When sacred thoughts, like angels, come ap- 
pealing 
To our tent-doors ! O eve ! to earth and heaven 
The sweetest of the seven. 

How peaceful are thy skies ! thy air is clearer, 
As on the advent of a gracious time. 

The sweetness of its prime 
Blesseth the world, and Eden's days seem 

nearer : 
I hear, in each faint stirring of the breeze, 

God's voice among the trees. 

Oh ! while the hallowed moments are distilling 
Their fresher influence on my heart like dews, 
The chamber where I muse 



1 82 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Turns to a temple. He, whose converse thrill- 
ing 
Honored Emmaus that old eventide, 
Comes sudden to my side. 

'Tis light at evening-time when thou art pres- 
ent : 
Thy coming to the Eleven in that dim room 

Brightened, O Christ ! its gloom. 
So bless my lonely hour, that memories pleasant 
Around the time a heavenly gleam may cast, 

Which many days shall last. 

Raise each low aim, refine each high emotion, 
That with more ardent footstep I may press 

Toward thy holiness ; 
And, braced for sacred duty by devotion, 
Support my cross along that rugged road 

Which thou hast sometime trod. 

I long to see thee ; for my heart is wean*. 
Oh ! when, my Lord, in kindness wilt thor 
come 
To call thy banished home ? 
The scenes are cheerless, and the clays are 

dreary : . 
From sorrow and from sin I would be free, 
And evermore with thee. 



PANTING FOR JESUS. 183 

Even now I see the golden city shining 

Up the blue depths of that transparent air : 
How happy all is there ! 

There breaks a day which never knows de- 
clining ; 

A sabbath, through whose circling hours the 

blest 

Beneath thy shadow rest. 

James D. Burns. 



Panting for Jesus. 

MY soul, amid this stormy world, 
Is like some fluttered dove, 
And fain would be as swift of wing 
To flee to Him I love. 

The cords that bound my heart to earth 

Are broken by His hand : 
Before His cross I found myself 

A stranger in the land. 

That visage marred, those sorrows deep, 

The vinegar and gall, — 
These were His golden chains of love 

His captive to inthrall. 



184, HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

My heart is with Him on His throne, 

And ill can brook delay ; 
Each moment listening for the voice, 

*' Rise up, and come away ! " 

With hope deferred, oft sick and faint, 
" Why tarries He ? " I cry : 

Let not the Saviour chide my haste ; 
For then would I reply, 

" May not an exile, Lord, desire 
His own sweet land to see ? 

May not a captive seek release ? 
A prisoner, to be free ? 

" A child, when far away, may long 
For home and kindred dear : 

And she that waits her absent Lord 
May sigh till he appear. 

" I would, my Lord and Saviour, know 
That which no measure knows ; 

Would search the mystery of thy love, 
The depth of all thy woes. 

" I fain would strike my harp divine 
Before the Father's throne, 

There cast my crown of righteousness, 
And sing what grace has done. 



"MV HEART FAILETH." 185 

"Ah ! leave me not in this base world, 

A stranger still to roam : 
Come, Lord, and take me to thyself; 

Come, Jesus, quickly come ! " 

Robert C. Chapman. 



" My Flesh and my Heart faileth." 

IN weakness at Thy feet I lie : 
Thine eye each pang hath seen. 
Scarce can I lift my heart on high ; 
Yet, Lord, on thee 1 lean, — 

Lean on thy sure, unfailing word, 

Thy gentle " It is I ; " 
For thou, my ever-living Lord, 

Know'st what it is to die. 

Thou wilt be with me when 1 go, — 

Thy life my life in death ; 
For, in the lowest depths, I know 

Thine arms are underneath. 

'Tis not the infant's feeble grasp 
Which holds the mother fast : 

It is the mother's gentle clasp 
Around her darling cast. 



1 86 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Just so thy child would cling to thee, 

Knowing thy pity long ; 
For, feeble as my faith may be, 

Thy hand I clasp it strong. 

Author of " The Cotta Family." 



HVMN FOR THE HOLY COMMUNION. 

AT this thy banquet, Lord of all, 
May less than angel dare to sup ? 
The crumbs that from thy table fall 
Unworthy we to gather up. 

Yet, oh ! too poor to turn away, 

Too glad to own thy gracious claim, 

We stay because thou bid'st us stay, 
Despite our garb of want and shame. 

Before thine altar kneeling low, 
We bare our sinful hands to thine : 

O holy Lord ! thy pity show, 

And cleanse us with thy touch divine. 

Fill thou these empty palms with food, — 
The bread thou broughtest from above ; 

This cup with thy most precious blood, — 
The wine of thy atoning love. 



A PRAYER TO CHRIST. 187 

The hunger and the thirst we plead 
No meaner feast could satisfy : 

O Saviour ! in our utter need, 

Thou, thou must feed us, or we die ! 

Harriet McEwen Kimball. 



A Prayer to Christ. 

I THIRST, thou wounded Lamb of God, 
To wash me in thy cleansing blood ; 
To dwell within thy wounds : then pain 
Is sweet, and life or death is gain. 

Take my poor heart, and let it be 
Forever closed to all but thee ; 
Seal thou my breast, and let me wear 
That pledge of love forever there. 

How blest are they who still abide 
Close sheltered in thy bleeding side ; 
Who life and strength from thence derive, 
And by thee move, and in thee live ! 

What are our works but sin and death, 
Till thou thy quickening Spirit breathe ? 
Thou giv'st the power thy grace to move : 
Oh wondrous grace ! oh boundless love ! 



88 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE 

How can it be, thou heavenly King, 
That thou sbouldst us to glory bring ; 
Make slaves the partners of thy throne, 
Decked with a never-fading crown ? 

Hence our hearts melt ; our eyes o'erflow ; 
Our words are lost ; nor will we know 
Nor will we think of aught beside, — 
u My Lord, my Love, is crucified." 

Ah, Lord ! enlarge our scanty thought 
To know the wonders thou hast wrought ; 
Unloose our stammering tongues to tell 
Thy love immense, unsearchable. 

First-born of many brethren thou ! 
To thee, lo ! all our souls we bow ; 
To thee our hearts and hands we give : 
Thine may we die, thine may we live. 

From Dessler, by Weslev 



Walk in the Light. 

WALK in the light ; so shalt thou know 
That fellowship of love 
His Spirit only can bestow 
Who reigns in lisrht above. 



THINGS HOPED FOR, 189 

Walk in the light, and thou shalt find 

Thy heart made truly His 
Who dwells in cloudless light enshrined, 

In whom no darkness is. 

Walk in the light, and sin abhorred 

Shall ne'er defile again : 
The blood of Jesus Christ the Lord 

Shall cleanse from every sin. 

Walk in the light, and e'en the tomb 

No fearful shade shall wear : 
Glory shall chase away its gloom ; 

For Christ hath conquered there. 

Walk in the light, and thou shalt see 
Thy path, though thorny, bright ; 

For God by grace shall dwell in thee, 
And God himself is light. 



Things hoped for. 

THESE are the crowns that we shall 
wear 
When all thy saints are crowned ; 
These are the palms that we shall bear 
On yonder holy ground. 



190 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Far off as yet, reserved in heaven, 

Above the veiling sky, 
They sparkle, like the stars of even, 

To hope's far-piercing eye. 

These are the robes, unsoiled and white, 
Which then we shall put on, 

When, foremost 'mong the sons of light, 
We sit on yonder throne. 

That city with the jewelled crest, 

Like some new-lighted sun, 
A blaze of burning amethyst, — 

Ten thousand orbs in one, — 

That is the city of the saints, 
Where we so soon shall stand, 

When we shall strike these desert-tents, 
And quit this desert-sand. 

These are the everlasting hills, 
With summits bathed in day : 

The slopes down which the living rills, 
Soft-lapsing, take their way. 

Fair vision, how thy distant gleam 
Brightens time's saddest hue ! 

Far fairer than the fairest dream, 
And yet so strangely true ! 



THINGS HOPED FOR. 

Fair vision, how thou liftest up 
The drooping brow and eye ! 

With the calm joy of thy sure hope 
Fixing our souls on high. 



Thy light makes even the darkest page 
In memory's scroll grow fair ; 

Blanching the lines which tears and age 
Had only deepened there. 

With thee in view, the rugged slope 

Becomes a level way, 
Smoothed by the magic of thy hope, 

And gladdened by thy ray. 

With thee in view, how poor appear 
The world's most winning smiles ! 

Vain is the Tempter's subtlest snare, 
And vain hell's varied wiles. 

Time's glory fades ; its beauty now 
Has ceased to lure or blind : 

Each gay enchantment here below 
Has lost its power to bind. 

Then welcome toil and care and pain ! 

And welcome sorrow too ! 
All toil is rest, all grief is gain, 

With such a prize in view. 



191 



IQ2 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Come, crown and throne ! come, robe and palm ! 

Burst forth, glad stream of peace ! 
Come, holy city of the Lamb ! 

Rise, Sun of Righteousness ! 

When shall the clouds that v«eil thy rays 

Forever be withdrawn ? 
Why dost thou tarry, day of days ? 

When shall thy gladness dawn ? 

HORATIUS BONAR. 



All Things are Yours. 

MINE ! — What rays of glory bright 
Now upon *Le promise shine ! 
I have found the Lord my light ; 
I am his, and he is mine. 

Mine / — the promise often read, 
Now in living truth impressed, 
Once acknowledged in the head, 
Now a fire within the breast. 

Mine no more the crimson stains. — 
Here I see them blotted out ; 
Mine no more the bonds and chains ; 
Mine no more the fear and doubt. 



ALL THINGS ARE YOURS. ig$ 

Mine acceptance at the throne ; 
Mine the Father's owning smile ; 
Mine the Fathers love unknown, — - 
What shall from that love beguile ? 

Mine the yoke that's lined with love ; 
Mine the imputed righteousness ; 
Mine the armor for the fight ; 
Mine the way of holiness. 

Mine the mighty Paraclete : 
Such a weight of glory's given 
Unto me ! — a worm like me ! — 
Here in part, the whole in heaven. 

Mine ! — though oft my hand may fail, 
He is strong, and holds me fast ; 
His dear blood shall still prevail ; 
He shall lead me home at last. 

Mine ! — When death the bars shall break 

'Mid the glories all divine, 

u Satisfied " I shall awake, 

Clasp his feet, and call him mine f 

E. Z. B. 
13 



X(j4 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Look, and be saved. 

THERE is life for a look at the Crucified 
One; 
There is life at this moment for thee : 
Then look, sinner, look unto Him, and be saved ; 
Unto Him who was nailed to the tree. 

Oh ! why was he there as the bearer of sin, 
If on him all thy sins were not laid ? 

Oh ! why from his side flowed the sin-cleansing 
blood, 
If his dying thy debt hath not paid ? 

It is not thy tears of repentance or prayers, 
But the blood, that atones for the soul : 

On Him, then, who shed it, thou mayest at once 
Thy weight of iniquities roll. 

His anguish of soul on the cross hast thou 
seen ? 

His cry of distress hast thou heard ? 
Then why, if the terrors of wrath he endured, 

Should pardon to thee be deferred ? 

Thou art healed by his stripes, (wouldst thou 
add to the word ?) 
And he is thy righteousness made ; 



'PERFECT IN LOVE: 



195 



The best robe of heaven he bids thee put on : 
Say, co aids t thou be better arrayed ? 

Then doubt not thy pardon, since God has de- 
clared 

There remaineth no more to be done ; 
That once in the end of the world he appeared, 

And completed the work he begun : 

But take with rejoicing from Jesus at once 

The life everlasting he gives ; 
And know with assurance thou never canst die, 

Since Jesus thy righteousness lives. 

There is life for a look at the Crucified One ; 

There is life at this moment for thee : 
Then look, sinner, look unto him, and be saved, 

And know thyself spotless as he. 



" Perfect in Love." 

" T)ERFECT in love ! " — Lord, can it be, 
J- Amidst this state of doubt and sin, — 
While foes so thick without I see, 

With weakness, pain, disease, within, — 
Can perfect love inhabit here, 
And, strong in faith, extinguish fear ? 



196 hymns of the higher life. 

O Lord ! amidst this mental night, 

Amidst the clouds of dark dismay, 
Arise ! arise ! shed forth thy light, 
And kindle love's meridian day. 
My Saviour God, to me appear ; 
So love shall triumph over fear. 



The River of Life. 

THERE is a pure and peaceful wave 
That rolls around the throne of love, 
Whose waters gladden as they lave 
The peaceful shores above. 

While streams which on that tide depend 
Steal from those heavenly shores away, 
And on this desert world descend, 
O'er weary lands to stray, — 

The pilgrim, faint, and nigh to sink 
Beneath his load of earthly woe, 
Refreshed beside their verdant brink, 
Rejoices in their flow. 

There, O my soul ! do thou repair, 
And hover o'er the hallowed spring, 



r 9 7 



THE PEACE OF GOD. 

To :lrkik the crystal wave, and there 
To lave thy wearied wing. 

There droop that wing when far it flies 
From human care and toil and strife, 
And feed by those still streams that rise 
Beneath the tree of life. 



It may be that the waft of love 
Some leaves on that pure tide has driven, 
Which, passing from the shores above, 
Have floated down from heaven. 

So shall thy wounds and woes be healed 
By the blest virtue that they bring ; 
So thy parched lips shall be unsealed, 
Thy Saviour's praise to sing. 



The Peace of God. 

WE ask for peace, O Lord ! 
Thy children ask thy peace : 
Not what the world calls rest ; 

That toil and care should cease ; 
That through bright, sunny hours 
Calm life should fleet awav. 



I98 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

And tranquil night should fade 

In smiling day : 

It is not for such peace that we would pray. 

We ask for peace, O Lord ! 

Yet not to stand secure, 
Girt round with iron pride, 

Contented to endure, 
Crushing the gentle strings 

That human hearts should know, 
Untouched by others' joys 
Or others' woe : 
Thou, O dear Lord ! wilt never teach us so. 

We ask thy peace, O Lord ! 

Through storm and fear and strife 
To light and guide us on 

Through a long, struggling life, 
While no success or gain 

Shall cheer the desperate fight, 
Or nerve what the world calls 
Our wasted might, 
Yet pressing through the darkness to the light. 

It is thine own, O Lord ! 

Who toil while others sleep ; 
Who sow with loving care 

What other hands shall reap : 



"THY WILL BE DONE:" 199 

They lean on thee, entranced 

In calm and perfect rest. 
Give us that peace, O Lord ! 
Divine and blest, 
Thou keepest for those hearts who love thee best 

A. A Procter. 



" Thy Will be done." 

ONLY silently resigned 
To the counsels of Thy mind ; 
Willing, yet rejoicing not, 
That Thy purpose shall be wrought : 

Is this truly to submit ? 
Folding placid hands, to sit, 
While innumerable feet 
Thy triumphant coming meet ? 

Shall we say, " Thy will be done," 
And on our own errands run ? 
Vain and evil the design 
We pursue apart from Thine. 

Teach us how to live this prayer ; 
Reverently Thy plans to share ; 
More than echoes of Thy voice, 
Make us partners in Thy choice. 



200 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Lift us up to catch from Thee 
World-encircling sympathy ; 
Ardor, strength, and courage give ; 
As Thou livest, let us live. 

Let our deeds be syllables 

Of the prayer our spirit swells ; 

In us Thy desire fulfil ; 

By us work Thy gracious will. 

Lucy Larcom. 



"Take up thy Cross, and follow Me." 

THE way seems long, dear Leader; and my 
feet 
Are weary, pressing oft these thorns. 'Twere 

sweet, 
Methinks, to rest. This heavy cross remove : 
Thou surely need'st not thus my love to prove. 
" Rest not, weak heart, nor lay thy burden 

down : 
For earth's short rest wouldst lose thy heavenly 

crown ? " 

The way is dark, dear Leader ; mists arise 
That hide thy blessed presence from my eyes : 



"TAKE UP THY CROSS." 201 

I stumble on this lonely mountain wild : 

loving Father ! spare me, spare thy child. 

" Dost hear my voice ? Then follow as I bade : 
Thou'rt safe if firm on me thy trust is stayed." 

But I am faint, dear Leader, and I sink ; 

" My steps are well-nigh gone ; " upon the brink 

1 helpless fall : put forth thy mighty power, 
And save me, loving Father, in this hour. 

" Drink freely of the brook that floweth by ; 
Then lift thy head, — thy Leader still is nigh." 

And must it thus, dear Leader, ever be ? 
And may we here no resting-place e'er see ? 
Though faint and weary, light or dark the way, 
Press forward e'en to reach heaven's blessed 

day ? 
" Enough that, as the Master, thou shouldst 

live : 
Faithful to death, thou shalt the crown receive." 

Onward, dear Jesus ! safely by thee led, 

" Faint, yet pursuing," still the path I'll tread : 

Gird me with strength, then all my prayer shall 

be, 
" Father, e'en so ; it seemeth good to thee." 
"And, as thy days, thy strength shall ever be ; 
While heaven's eternal glory waiteth thee." 



202 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



Summer in the Soul. 

AUTUMN was on the earth, 
When Summer came to me, — 
The " Summer in the soul," — 
And set the life-springs free. 

Darkness was on my life, 

A heavy weight of night, 
When the Sun arose within, 

And filled my heart with light. 

Ice lay upon my heart, 
Ice-fetters still and strong, 

W 7 hen the living spring gushed forth, 
And filled my soul with song. 

That Summer shall not fade ; 

That Sun it setteth never ; 
The fountain in my heart 

Springs full and fresh forever. 

Since I have learned thy love, 
My Summer, Lord, thou art, — 

Summer to me, and day, 

And life-springs in my heart. 



SUMMER IN THE SOUL. 

Since I have learned thou art. 
Thou livest, and art love, 

Art love, and lovest me, 
Fearless I look above. 

Thy blood blots out my sin ; 

Thy love casts out my fear : 
Heaven is no longer far, 

Since thou, its Sun, art near. 

Here thou abid'st awhile, 
Here in the night with me : 

Soon thou wilt take me home, — 
Home to thy light, with thee, 

Where is no night, nor eyes 

Which, w r eeping, long for night : 

Eyes whence thou wip'st the tears 
Can bear thy cloudless light. 

Summer, life-fountains, day, 

Within, around, above, 
Where we shall see thy face, 

Where we shall feel thy love ! 

Author of "The Cotta Family." 



203 



204 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



B 



Press On. 

E brave, my brother ! 
Fight the good fight of faith 

With weapons proved and true ; 
Be faithful and unshrinking to the death ; 

Thy God will bear thee through. 
The strife is terrible ; 

Yet 'tis not, 'tis not long : 
The foe is not invincible, 

Though fierce and strong. 



Be brave, my brother ! 

The recompense is great, 

The kingdom bright and fair : 
Beyond the glory of all earthly state 

Shall be the glory there. 
Grudge not the heavy cost, 

Faint not ai labor here ; 
'Tis but a life-time at the most : 

The day of rest is near. 

Be brave, my brother ! 

He whom thou servest slights 

Not even His weakest one ; 
No deed, though poor, shall be forgot, 

However feebly done : 



PXJ5SS ON. 



205 



The prayer, the wish, the thought, 

The faintly-spoken word, 
The plan that seemed to come to nought, 

Each has its own reward. 

Be brave, my brother ! 

Enlarge thy heart and soul ; 

Spread out thy free, glad love ; 
Encompass earth, embrace the sea, 

As does the sky above : 
Let no man see thee stand 

In. slothful idleness, 
As if there were no work for thee 

In such a wilderness. 

Be brave, my brother ! 

Stint not the liberal hand ; 

Give in the joy of love : 
So shall thy crown be bright, and great 

Thy recompense above ; 
Reward, not like the deed, 

That poor, weak deed, of thine, 
But: like the God himself who gives, 

Eternal and divine. 

HORATIUS BONAR. 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



The Promise of Sanctificatiok". 

GOD of all power and truth and grace, 
Which shall from age to age endure ; 
Whose word, when heaven and earth shall 
pass. 
Remains and stands forever sure, — 

Calmly to thee my soul looks up, 
And waits thy promises to prove, 

The object of my steadfast hope, 
The seal of thine eternal love. 

That I thy mercy may proclaim. 

That all mankind thy truth may see, 

Hallow thy great and glorious name, 
And perfect holiness in me. 

Chose from the world if now I stand, 
Adorned in righteousness divine ; 

H, brought into, the promised land, 
I justly call the Saviour mine, — 

Perform the work thou hast begun ; 

My inmost soul to thee convert ; 
Love me, forever love thine own ; 

And sprinkle with thy blood my heart. 



PROMISE OF SANCTIFICATIO.V. 207 

Thy sanctifying Spirit pour, 

To quench my thirst and wash me clean : 
Now, Father, let the gracious shower 

Descend and make me pure from sin. 

Purge me from every sinful blot ; 

My idols all be cast aside ; 
Cleanse me from every evil thought, 

From all the filth of self and pride. 

Give me a new and perfect heart, 

From doubt and fear and sorrow free ; 

The mind which was in Christ impart, 
And let my spirit cleave to thee. 

Oh ! take this heart of stone away. — 
(Thy rule it doth not, can not, own ;) 

In me no longer let it stay : 
Oh ! take away this heart of stone. 

The hatred of my carnal mind 
Out of my flesh at once remove ; 

Give me a tender heart, resigned 

And pure, and filled with faith and love. 

Within me thy good Spirit place, — 
Spirit of health and love and power, — 

Plant in me thy victorious grace, 
And sin shall never enter more. 



2 08 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE 

Cause me to walk in Christ my Way, 
And I thy statutes shall fulfil, 

In every point thy law obey. 
And perfectly perform thy will. 

Hast thou not said, who canst not lie, 

That I thy law shall keep and do ? 
Lord. I believe, though men deny : 
They all are false ; but thou art true. 

Oh that I now. from sin released. 

Thy word might to the utmost prove ; 
Enter into the promised rest, — 

The Canaan of thy perfect love ! 

There let me ever, ever dwell : 
Be thou my God, and I will be 

Thy servant. Oh ! set to thy seal ; 
Give me eternal life in thee. 

From all remaining filth within 
Let me in thee salvation have : 

From actual and from inbred sin 
My ransomed soul persist to save. 

Wash out my old original stain : 
Tell me no more, " It cannot be/' 

Demons or men ! The Lamb was slain ; 
His blood was all poured out for me ! 



PROMISE OF SANCTIFICATIJN. 209 

Sprinkle it, Jesus, on my heart : 

One drop of thine all-cleansing blood 

Shall make my sinfulness depart, 
And fill me with the life of God. 

Father, supply my every need ; 

Sustain the life thyself hast given ; 
Call for the corn, the living bread, — 

The manna that comes down from heaven. 

The gracious fruits of righteousness, 
Thy blessings' unexhausted store, 

In me abundantly increase ; 
Nor let me ever hunger more. 

Let me no more, in deep complaint, 
" My leanness, oh ! my leanness," cry, 

Alone consumed with pining want, 
Of all my Father's children, I ! 

The painful thirst, the fond desire, 
Thy joyous presence shall remove ; 

While my full soul doth still require 
The whole eternity of love. 

Holy and true and righteous Lord, 
I want to prove thy perfect will : 

Be mindful of thy gracious word, 
And stamp me with thy Spirit's seal. 



2IO 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Thy faithful mercy let me find, 

In which thou causest me to trust ; 

Give me thy meek and lowly mind, 
And lay my spirit in the dust. 

Show me how foul my heart hath been, 
When all renewed by grace I am : 

When thou hast emptied me of sin, 
Show me the fulness of my shame. 

Open my faith's interior eve, 
Display thy glory from above, 

And all I am shall sink and die, 
Lost in astonishment and love. 

Confound, o'erpower me with thy grace ; 

I would be by myself abhorred : 
(All might, all majesty, all praise, 

All glory, be to Christ my Lord ! ) 

Now let me gain perfection's height ; 

Now let me into nothing fall, — 
Be less than nothing in thy sight; 

And feel that Christ is all in all. 

Charles \Y esley. 



closer to thee. 21 1 

Closer to Thee. 

SAVIOUR ! I follow on, 
Guided by thee, 
Seeing not yet the Hand 

That leadeth me. 

Hushed be my heart, and still ; 

Fear I no further ill : 

Only to meet thy will 

My will shall be. 

Riven the rock for me, 

Thirst to relieve ; 
Manna from heaven falls, 

Fresh every eve : 
Never a want severe 
Causeth my eye a tear, 
But thou dost whisper near, 

" Only believe ! " 

Often to Marah's brink 

Have I been brought ; 
Shrinking the cup to drink, 

Help I have sought ; 
And, with the prayer's ascent, 
Jesus the branch hath rent, 
Quickly relief hath sent, 

Sweetening the draught 



212 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

Saviour ! I long to walk 

Closer with thee ; 
Led by thy guiding hand 

Ever to be ; 
Constantly near thy side, 
Quickened and purified, 
Living for Him who died 
Freely for me. 

C. S. ROBINFON. 



Come, Jesus ; and come quickly. 

JESUS, I love. Come, dearest name! 
Come, and possess this heart of mine : 
I love, though 'tis a fainter flame, 
And infinitely less than thine. 

Oh ! if my Lord would leave the skies. 
Dressed in the rays of mildest grace. 
My soul would hasten to my eyes 
To meet the pleasures of his face. 

How would I feast on all his charms, 
Then round his lovely feet intwine ! 
Worship and love, in all their forms, 
Should honor beauty- so divine. 



OVER IHF SUNSET SEA. 



213 



In vain the Tempter's flattering tongue ; 
The world in vain should bid me move, — 
In vain ; for I should gaze so long, 
Till I were all transformed to love. 

Then, mighty God ! I'd sing and say, 
" What empty names are crowns and kings ! 
Among them give these worlds away, — 
These little despicable things." 

I would not ask to climb the sky, 
Nor envy angels their abode : 
I have a heaven as bright and high 
In the blest vision of my God. 

Isaac Watts. 



Over the Sunset Sea. 

LAST night an arrow of light fell down 
At the feet of a sad, earth-weary one, 
Whose prayer was ever, in sorrow's hour, 

" Heavenly Father, thy will be done." 
Upward she glanced at the sapphire sky ; 
The sunset waves were rolling high ; 
And an angel stood on the far-off shore : 



214 



HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 



He beckoned to her with his shining hand, — 
" I have found thee a home in the Eden land, 
Where storms of earth are known no more : 
Our Father sent me to guide thee o'er." 

Then a rainbow-bridge the angel laid 
Over the sea ; and he took her hand, 

And led her on through a golden mist, 
Over the bridge, to the Eden land. 

Bright forms she saw, as a shower of light 

Fell from their wings like sunbeams bright ; 

Voices she heard, — and she knew them too, — 
" Come to us, mamma, we're waiting for you, 
Here, on the shore of the sunset sea." 

They opened for her the gates of gold ; 

They led her up to the great white throne ; 
And, as she knelt at her Saviour's feet, 

He smiled upon her, and said, "Well done ! 
Thou hast followed me long in the narrow way ; 
From the path of duty thou didst not stray : 

Now thou shalt rest ; thy work is o'er." 
As the waves of the sunset sea grew dim, 
The sweet stars sang their evening hymn : 
Its burden was (I can hear it still), 

" Watch and pray ; " and I mean to, until 

I, too, shall find rest on the " shining shore." 

Congregation alist. 



THOUGHTS OF HOME. 



Thoughts of Home. 



! *-5 



I'VE been thinking of home ; of " my Father's 
house, 
Where the many mansions be ; " 
Of the city whose streets are paved with gold ; 
Of its jasper walls, so fair to behold, 

Which the righteous alone shall see. 

I've been thinking of home, where they need 
not the light 

Of the sun, nor moon, nor star ; 
Where the gates of pearl " are not shut by day, 
For no night is there," but the weary may 

Find rest from the world afar. 

I've been thinking of home ; of the river of life 
That flows through the city so pure ; 

Of the tree that standi by the side of the stream. 

Whose leaves in mercy with blessings teem, 
The sin-wounded soul to cure. 

I've been thinking of home, of the loved ones 
there, 

Dear friends who have gone before, 
With whom we walked to the death-river side, 
And sadly thought, as we watched the tide, 

Of the happy days of yore. 



2l6 HYMNS OF THE HIGHER LIFE. 

I've been thinking of home ; and my heart is full 

Of love for the Lamb of God, 
Who his precious life as a ransom gave 
For a sinful race, e'en our souls to save 

From Justice' avenging rod. 

I've been thinking of home, and I'm homesick 
now : 

My spirit doth long to be 
In "the better land," where the ransomed sing 
Of the love of Christ, their Redeemer, King ; 

Of mercy so costly, so free. 

I've been thinking of home, — yea, "home, 
sweet home ! " 

Oh ! there may we all unite 
With the white-robed throng, and forever raise 
To the Triune God sweetest songs of praise 

With glory and honor and might ! 



Index of Subjects and Authors. 



SUBJECT. 

" Come up Hither "... 
The Believer's Consecration 
The Song of the Angels 

above .... 
Looking to the Cross 
Toiling all the Night 
Divine Adoption 
The Method . . 
Prisoners of Hope 
Peace .... 
The Indwelling Spirit . . 
I am His, and He is Mine . 
The Soul's Surrender . . . 

What Then? 

Bring the Children with You 
My Saviour . . ... 

Come unto Me 

Prayer 

Pentecost 

Create in Me a Clean Heart 
A German Trust-song . . 
The White Raiment . . . 
Working with Thee . . . 

The Friend 

Nothing to Do 

My Angel-dress 



AUTHOR. PAGE. 

Mrs. A. B. C. Keene . . . 9 

Richard Baxter 11 

Isaac Watts 13 

Charles Wesley 17 

John Keble 18 

Madame Guy on .... 21 

George Herbert 22 

Charles Wesley 24 

George Herbert 26 

Thomas Toke Lynch ... 28 

Henry Fra?icis Lyte ... 30 

Philip Doddridge .... 32 

E.J. 33 

Julia Gill 34 

Dora Greenwell .... 36 

From St. Stephen .... 37 

George Herbert 39 

John Keble 40 

Charles Wesley 42 

Lampertius 47 

Horatius Bo?iar .... 40 

A nniversary F. G. Society . 5 1 

Mary CLmmer Ames . . 5.1 

N.E 5; 

Lucy Larcom .... 56 



218 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 



SUBJECT. 


AUTHOR. 


PAGE. 


The Offering 


Harriet M'Eiuen Kimball . 58 


Let Us draw Near . . . . 


Ho rat ins Bonar . . 


• • 63 


Resignation to Christ . . . 


Charles Wesley 


. . 64 


Thoughts of Christ . . . 


Bernard of Fontaine 


. . 66 


A Little Bird I am . . . . 


Madame Guy on . . 


. . 6 7 


Forsaken, yet Hoping . . 


Isaac Watts . . . 


. . 69 


Our Master 


JVkittier 


. . 70 


The Love of God .... 


F. Austin 


• 77 


" When thou hast shut thy 






Door, pray" . . . . 


Mary E. Atkinson . 


• 73 


Christ loved Unseen . . . 


Ray Palmer . . . 


• 79 


"Abide in Me, and I in 






You" 


Harriet Beecher Stoive 


. 80 


I have found It 


Mrs. Charles, A uthor 


of 




" Cotta Family " 


. 81 


Pencil-marks in a Book of 






Devotion 


Dora Greenwell . . 


• 83 


The Refuge 


Charles Wesley . . . 


• 84 


"Ye did it not to Me" . . 


N. y. Observer . . . 


. 86 


A Sacramental Hymn . . 


Horatius Bonar . . 


94 


The Holy Catholic Church . 


F.B.P 


• 95 


"When I awake, I am still 






with Thee " 


Harriet Beecher Stoiue 


. 98 


The Master's Invitation.. . 


A. D. F. Randolph . 


99 


Sitting at the Feet of Jesus. 


J. H 




The Fellowship of Suffering 


Theodore Tilton . . . 


103 


The Throne of Grace . . . 


Miss, Charlotte Elliott . 


. 105 


Perfection 


Faber 


. 107 


Draw Me to Thee .... 


M.A.W. 


109 


Jesus, the Ladder of my 






Faith ....... 


Harriet M'Ewen Kimba 


//. 110 


Prayer against the Power of 






Sin 


Charles Wesley 


112 


Trust 


Dean of Canterbury 


US 


None but Thee 


Anyelus 


116 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 



219 



SUBJECT. 


AUTHOR. 




PAGE. 


u Not My Will, but Thine, 






be done " 


John Keble ..... 


Il8 


The Robe of Holiness . . 


Prof. T. C. Upham . . 


121 


A Closer Walk with God 


Christian Intelligencer . 


122 


Self-consecration .... 


Isaac Watts .... 


124 


Take me, O my Father ! 






take me 


Ray Palmer .... 


I2D 


The Way, the Truth, and 






the Life 


A uthor of" Cotta Family ' 


' I3 7 


In Him we live 


Horatius Bonar . . . 


129 


To Yonder Side .... 


Robert Murray A'TCheyne 


130 


Thus would I live .... 


y. H 


133 


Union with Christ .... 


Prof. T. C. Upkam . . 


-34 


Panting for Divine Love 


Charles Wesley . . . 


*35 


Humble Service .... 


Harriet APE wen Kimball 13? 


Forever with the Lord . . 


James AI out gome ry . . 


-38 


Simple Trust 


Madame Guy on . . . 


*39 


The Hidden Life .... 


William. Cowper . . . 


141 


The Hour of Prayer . . . 


Miss Charlotte Elliott . 


.42 


The Cancelled Bond . . . 




J 43 


Hear my Cry 


Horatius Bonar . . . 


144 


Glory to God alone . . . 


Madame Guy on 


146 


Rejoicing in Hope .... 


Charles Wesley . . . 


148 


The Voyage 


Airs. Mary Maxwell . 


150 


A Heavenly Breeze 




~S7 


The Gospel in the Lord's 






Supper 


Author of u Cotta Family ' 


158 


Love to Christ, Present or 






Absent 


Isaac Watts .... 


160 


The Alpine Sheep .... 


Airs. Maria Lowell 




162 


Renouncing the World . . 


J. Taylor. . . . 




163 


" Surely I come quickly " . 


John Mason . . 




165 


Jesus 


Philip Doddridge . 




167 


The Rest from Sin .... 


Charles Wesley 




168 


Gethsemane 


Joseph Hart . . 




171 



2 20 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 

SUBJECT. AUTHOR. 'AGE. 

A Meditation in Sickness . Augustus M. Toplady . . 174 

" Come and See " .... Author of li Cotta Family" 177 

The Inner Calm .... Horatius Bonar . . . 17S 

The Fellowship of Saints . Anna Lcetitici Barbauld . iSo 

The Lord's Day .... James D. Bunts . . . iSr 

Panting for Jesus .... Robert C. CJiapm in. . . . 183 
"My Flesh and my Heart 

faileth " Author of "Cotta Family " 185 

Hymn for the Holy Com- 
munion Harriet SPEwen Ki nib ill . 186 

A Prayer to Christ . . . Froi?i Dessler, by JVesIt-y . 187 

Walk in the Light 18S 

Things hoped for . . . . Horatius Bonar . . . . 189 

All Things are Yours . . E. Z B 192 

Look, and be saved 154 

"Perfect in Love" 195 

The River of Life 196 

The Peace of God . . . A. A. Procter 197 

" Thy Will be done " . . Lzicy Larcom ... . 199 
'Take up thy Cross, and 

follow Me " 200 

Summer in the Soul . . . AutJior of ' " Cotia Family"" 202 

Press On Horatius Bojuir .... 204 

The Promise of Sanctifica- 

tion CJuxrles Wesley 236 

Closer to Thee ... C. S. Robinson 211 

Come, Jesus ; and come 

quickly Isaac IVatts 2:2 

Over the Sunset Sea . . The Congregaiionalist . . 213 

Thoughts of Home 215 



Index of First Lines. 



PAGE. 

Alter our child's untroubled breath , 162 

After the Christian's tears 33 

A little bird I am 67 

Art thou weary? art thou languid? 37 

At this thy banquet, Lord of all 186 

Autumn was on the earth 202 

Be brave, my brother ! 204 

Behind the hills of Naphtali 130 

Blest be thy love, dear Lord 77 

Calm me, my God, and keep me calm 178 

Come, and rejoice with me 81 

Come from the dimness of the past 52 

Come, my fond, fluttering heart 163 

Dear Lord, thy table is outspread 99 

Downward through the still air falling 9 

Earth has detained me prisoner long ,3 

Forever with the Lord ! 138 

God of all power and truth and grace 206 

God of unfathomable love 42 

Gracious Spirit, dwell with me 28 

Happy the hours, the golden days ........ 69 



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i ri: gfi 

«43 

. . . ix 
. . : :•: 



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■eakness at Thy :e:: It 

iir.-tii i i£ i i :" 

z r~z i;i. -i~'7 n r. ;^: hi ms ...... 

yram in a vale c. tears .... . . 165 

bbics, it conies ! £ know not why 157 

sieves me, Lord, it giicves me sore 124 

. .: = : :-:- - :_ziti Liz.": ::' 3:i :-" 

5 an easy thins to say 137 

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Tesns, the ladder of my &ith no 

79 

Jesu, the very thought of tbe e . . 66 

V.s: i: }:■:' ::;ii ~: I ":~: ::. 

Last night an arro-sr of light fell down . 213 

L-'.-Z '—- ' '■'- '■ - " - - : zs-.r. y :±i: }'- 

Lord, I believe a rest remains. . 168 

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!--: r_v 2- : - ; :. '. :■!- : : : - 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 223 

Master, where abidest thou? 177 

Mine! — what rays of glory bright 192 

My God! is any hour so sweet. 142 

My soul, amid this stormy world 183 

My whole though broken heart, O Lord! xi 

No gospel like this feast 158 

Nothing fair on earth I see 116 

"Nothing to do" in this world of ours 55 

O Lord my God ! do thou thy holy will 118 

O Loved ! but not enough, though dearer far .... 146 

O Love divine, how sweet thou art ! 135 

O strong to save and bless 144 

O time of tranquil joy and holy feeling 181 

Of all the joys we mortals know 160 

Of what an easy, quick access 39 

Oh for a closer walk with God 123 

Oh happy day that fixed my choice ........ 32 

Oh, how the thought of God attracts 107 

Oh that Thou wouldst, the heavens rent 112 

Only silently resigned 199 

"Perfect in love!" — Lord, can it be ...... . 195 

Poor heart, lament 22 

Prisoners of hope, lift up your heads 24 

Saviour! I follow on 211 

Saviour, is there any thing . . 58 

Sitting at the feet of Jesus xoi 

Sometimes I upward lift mine eyes 121 

Still, still without ceasing 139 

Still, still, with Thee, when purple morning breaketh . 98 

Strong words are these : " O Lord ! I seek but thee " . 83 

Sweet Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave . 26 



224 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



Take me, O my Father ! take me 126 

That mystic word of thine, O sovereign Lord ! . . . . 80 

The babe, the bride, the quiet dead 49 

The livelong night we've toiled in vain 18 

"The Master has come over Jordan" 34 

There is a pure and peaceful wave 196 

There is a spot of consecrated ground 105 

There is life for a look at the Crucified One .... 194 

These are the crowns that we shall wear 189 

The way seems long, dear Leader; and my feet . . . 200 

They love their blessed Leader. Not more close . . . 134 

Thou art the Way 127 

Thy cruel crown of thorns 103 

To tell the Saviour all my wants 141 

To the haven of Thy breast 84 

'Twas lovely all, — this glorious earth 150 

Walk in the light ; so shalt thou know 188 

We ask for peace, O Lord ! 19 

When God of old came down from heaven 40 

When languor and disease invade 174 

When shall Thy love constrain 64 

Why stand I lingering without 63 

Working, O Christ ! with thee 51 





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